The Protectors
by meghna
Summary: Alternate take to Kel's first year as a lady knight. discontinued
1. A Ball

Disclaimer: None of this is mine.   
  
A/N: Those of you with good memories may remember this story from a year and a half ago, before Lady Knight was published and fanfiction was thriving with concoctions of how the fourth book would go. I started this , but never finished because LK came out, and I wondered what the point of my own story was. LK was brilliant, like all of TP's work, but I don't think I was completely satisfied with the ending of Kel's story. So here I am, revisiting my own alternate take on the beginning of Kel's life as a lady knight.  
  
Summary: When Keladry of Mindelan's best friend invites her to a congratulatory ball, she expects nothing more than a long night of polite but boring conversation and overall discomfort. Never did she think that she would be swept up into secret missions, intrigue, murder plots, heartache, duels, true friendship, revenge, betrayals, or even the fulfillment of her destiny as a Protector.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The Protectors  
  
Chapter One: A Ball  
  
by meghna  
  
  
  
"To the bird, the nest; a spider, the web; to a person, friendship."  
  
The newly knighted Keladry of Mindelan stared at the blank parchment on her slightly messy desk in her new knight quarters. After she had moved out from Raoul's and begun her official life as a lady knight, Kel found that she had a lot of free time on her hands. To pass her afternoon, she had been trying to write a letter to her brother Anders back at Mindelan, but she kept getting distracted.   
  
The lady knight kept thinking back to her Ordeal, and that little man with the unruly brown hair, the children-killer. How will I find him? she wondered. But that wasn't the only thing that bothered her.   
  
At first she had just thought it was restlessness. After all, in her four years as a squire she barely ever stayed in one place for long, and she had never been idle. But as time wore on, Kel realized what it was. She missed Cleon. A lot. To her surprise, a tear trickled down her tanned cheek. You're being ridiculous, she tried telling herself. He's just away on border duty. She stopped that line of thought, though, before she started worrying about him too.   
  
Kel sighed and made another try for the letter, but she got no farther than "Dear Anders" when she was distracted again. This time though, it wasn't her own thoughts, but a knock on the door.   
  
"Kel? It's me, Neal," that deep drawl sounded through the door.   
  
She took her time trimming the end of her quill and closing the ink bottle before walking over and letting him in. As soon as the door opened, Neal asked, "What's the matter?" his green eyes worried. Kel realized, a little too late, that she hadn't wiped the tears from her eyes.   
  
"Nothing," she lied, not facing him, but walking to her desk and putting away the ink and parchment.   
  
"Come on, Kel. This isn't just anyone you're talking to. You can't just put on your mask and expect me to go along. Might as well tell me now; I'm going to find out anyway." She made a face at her friend's cocky attitude. Purposely misinterpreting it, he went on, "It can't be that bad."   
  
She blushed at the thought of Neal's reaction to her girly emotions, but refused to acknowledge that he was right. "You're right, it can't, because there isn't anything to be bad."   
  
He, however, was more interested in her red face. "Hmm...tears in your eyes, blush in your cheeks, and denial coming out of your mouth...could it be? Are you, my dear, thinking about a certain red-headed clown?"   
  
"No, why would I be doing that?" she tried to say, but one look at her face told Neal everything.   
  
"Aww," he replied, wiping a nonexistent tear away from his eye, "my little Kel's all grown up. In love and everything."   
  
She gave him a little shove for his teasing and insisted, "I'm not in love and I wasn't thinking about him."   
  
He put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not one of those conservatives, blind to everything around me. I've noticed how disappointed you were when Cleon didn't show up for your Ordeal, how you haven't been celebrating much, how you zone out sometimes, with a sad look on your face. That, in fact, is the reason why I am here."   
  
How can he tell, Kel pondered. Have I been that obvious?   
  
Neal didn't notice her puzzlement, though. "The King is throwing a ball in honor of the new knights," he continued, seeming not to notice her frown when he mentioned the King. "That's us! Anyway, Yuki seems really tired with all her lady-in-waiting and Midwinter duties past. Shinko and I have agreed that she needs the night off from all these balls and social events. Also, since you obviously need a night out from all this 'missing Cleon' and moping over your Ordeal nonsense, I thought we could go together. Come on, it'll be fun!"   
  
"Does Yuki know about this ball?" she asked. If she knew Yuki, she knew that the Yamani wouldn't want to miss it.   
  
"No, and if I told her, then she'd want to come, which wouldn't be good for either of you, would it?" he answered. "So are you in or out?"   
  
Kel made the mistake of hesitating. "OK, so you're going! Now, go get changed," he decided for her.   
  
She replied with the first stupid excuse that came to her mind, regretting it immediately, "But I have nothing to wear."   
  
He didn't buy it. "Of course you do." Striding past her, Neal opened her trunk and pulled out the first garment that came to hand, a gown of a light, springy green, with a white sheer over the skirt. The bodice was embroidered with little beads that blended in with the fabric, but softly caught the light when shone upon. Kel thought it was too much, but obviously he believed it perfect. "Here you go," he said while gently shoving her into her dressing room, ignoring her protests.   
  
Once inside, Kel gave up and struggled into the dress. She recognized it as one of Lalasa's creations. It fit almost perfectly. There was only one problem. There were ties in the back of the dress that she wasn't able to reach. They were criss-cross, an invention of Lalasa's, that were used for show, but also served as means for a slightly tighter fit. After struggling a bit, she finally called Neal. "Could you come here for a sec?"   
  
"Sure," came the hesitant response. "What do you need?"   
  
"Help," she answered as he walked in looking a little embarrassed. For no reason, Kel thought. Even without being tied, she was totally covered. Lalasa made it that way. "Could you tie this for me?"   
  
"Of course," he said, embarrassment disappearing. Kel turned around as he took the strings and fit them through the loops.   
  
"They're supposed to cross, kind of like boot laces," she explained. When he finished, she turned around "Thanks a lot. These gowns are meant for people with maids."   
  
"And, alas, all you have is me," he finished with mock woe that turned into fake resolve as he said, "I shall have to do my best to serve you."   
  
She chuckled at the thought of her dramatic friend acting as a maid, but stopped abruptly when he said, "There you go, my lady, all tied up. Now, how will we do your hair?"   
  
"You must be kidding."   
  
"I'm sorry my lady doubts my skill, but if she will please sit," he replied, leading her to her dresser and forcing her into a chair. Kel looked up at him. Despite the wicked gleam in his eyes, he was in all seriousness.   
  
"I'm afraid," she murmured to herself.   
  
Neal, however, paid no attention to her doubt. Instead, he pulled out the band that confined her hair into its normal ponytail and picked up a brush. "My lady has wonderful hair. Straight and full. Interesting length, also. I don't think I've seen a courtier with shoulder length hair recently," he commented while brushing.   
  
He was right. Since the Queen had grew out her hair until it spilled down her back, no one in court had hair shorter than midway down their back. "Then maybe you should put it up, so no one knows that I am out of fashion?" she suggested, hoping that the threat of real work would stop Neal from continuing this charade.   
  
To her satisfaction he looked surprised, but quickly recovered by saying, "No, it looks better this way. Plus, you make a statement. There, I'm finished with your hair. Now, all you need is a few finishing touches, like makeup and jewelry."   
  
"Uh Uh, there is no way you're putting face paint on me," she protested, shaking her head.   
  
"As my lady wishes, I will not put face paint on her, she looks better with a healthy tan anyway, but my lady never said anything about lip rouge or eye paint," he replied, unable to keep the humor out of his voice.   
  
"Why do you keep saying 'my lady' or 'she'?" Kel demanded.   
  
"It would be rude to address my lady directly!" he exclaimed while starting to look through the drawers of her dresser for makeup.   
  
"I think my lady-in-waiting better back away from me with that rouge or the only thing she'll be waiting on is another job come tomorrow," Kel snapped as Neal found a deep red color.   
  
"Relax, my lady, or you'll mess up your hair! Now close your mouth and sit still, I won't put on much, you don't need it," he complimented.   
  
She was about to mutter something indecent, but figured that he would just yell at her for moving and gave up. After he was done, he started looking for something for her eyes. "Oh, here it-what's this?" he asked, pulling out a long silver chain.   
  
At first Kel didn't recognize it, but then she remembered that birthday long ago, before she had told her mother she wanted to be a knight.   
  
"This is for when you get older and get presented at court," the tall Ilane of Mindelan had told her. "You'll find a husband who loves you and be happy."   
  
"But what if I can't find anyone?" the eight year old had replied.   
  
"Don't worry you will."   
  
Snapping out of the reminiscence, Kel answered, "My mother gave that to me a long time ago, for my first court appearance. I forgot I had it."   
  
"Well then, my lady must wear it." He handed it to her and went back to looking, until he finally took out a bag with many different eye colors it. After a bit of searching during which Kel was putting on the necklace, he pulled out a color and told her to close her eyes and sit still once again.   
  
It took all of her self-control not to open her eyes and make sure Neal wasn't making her look like a clown. Finally, he said, "There, you can open your eyes now."   
  
The first this she did was get up to go for the mirror, but he barred her way, ignoring commands to move out of the way. " I thought lady-in-waitings were supposed to be obedient," she commented dryly.   
  
"Well they're supposed to be ladies too, aren't they?" he retorted, a smile in his eyes. "Just be patient, there's only one more thing my lady needs. Today, I was coming to your rooms from lunch, when I encountered a handsome, young gentleman, who gave me something for you," he continued, falling again into the role of 'dainty maid.'   
  
"You did, did you? What was he like?" she inquired, genuinely interested.   
  
"Well, he was extremely handsome, deep green eyes and brown hair. Very graceful also, like he was walking on air. One sentence from him and I knew that he was intelligent. A lady's dream, but a competitor's worst nightmare," Neal replied, getting dreamy eyed.   
  
"Hm, I think he has the wrong person. The only green eyed person I know is clumsy and rather idiotic. Do you think maybe he has an older brother or something?"   
  
"I think my lady underestimates her friend," he said, rather haughtily, before giving her a small box.   
  
Kel chuckled and untied the ribbon that held the box closed. Inside was silver chain link bracelet.   
  
"Do you like it?" he asked softly, looking nervous.   
  
She picked it up. The metal was extra light, but surprisingly strong. Although unadorned with anything but a single leaf charm, the small links were intricately wrought and seemed to fit Kel. "I love it," she answered. She was putting it on when she noticed an engraving on the single charm. It read, "N+K BFF."   
  
"What does this stand for?"   
  
To her surprise and amusement, he actually blushed, "Kel and Neal, Best Friends Forever. Just so you don't forget me when you go out and do great knightly deeds and become a legend."   
  
"Oh, Neal, I could never forget you," she replied, before pulling him into a tight hug.   
  
"Come on, we're going to be late," said an even redder Neal. With an arm still around her, he led her out the door   
  
and to the Great Hall.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
I'm terribly sorry about the lack of italics, but I have to upload this as a text file and practically any formatting disappears. I'll try to find a way to fix this, but until then...  
  
But otherwise, what did you think? Feel free to review and let me know. Flames are welcome as long as they are constructive.   
  
Thanks for reading : )  
  
meghna 


	2. Dinner And a Note

Disclaimer: The Eastern Lands and its characters are all property of Tamora Pierce.

  


The Protectors

Chapter Two: Dinner and a Note

by meghna

  


Kel sighed. They had been waiting in line to be announced to dinner for a while. She was getting tired of standing in lady's slippers; the young knight yearned for a pair of soft, worn-in boots. This is what you get for being the last to come, she chided herself. 

  


"Excuse me, madam?" a voice said. Kel turned around to see a young man bearing the silver Conte crest on his blue tunic and an iron shod staff in his right hand waiting patiently for her attention. 

  


"Yes, how may I serve you?" she asked the nervous herald with a smile. _He is a little young to be doing this,_ she thought. _This must be his first time._

  


"Yes, um...well, would you rather be announced as 'Sir Keladry of Mindelan' or Lady Keladry of Mindelan?" he stuttered. 

  


"Sir, please. And thank you for asking." She wanted to be sure that everyone knew her as a knight above all else. She turned to Neal, a delicate question surfacing, but noticed that her best friend was deep in thought. His gaze was directed at a group of young nobles, laughing and carefree, but Kel had a feeling that he was not really seeing them. "Neal, what's the matter?" she inquired. He did not answer. "Neal?" she tried again, this time putting a hand on his green-clad arm and shaking gently.

  


Her touch served to jolt him out of his reverie. "Yes, my dear?" he asked, a little teasingly at her worry, but a small sadness still in his tone. 

  


"What were you thinking about?" she asked, concern not gone from her voice.

  


"About how I'm going to have to fend off the enormous onslaught of suitors after you and your beauty to save your virtue for Cleon, of course," Neal joked, skirting around the subject adeptly.

  


Though recognizing the compliment as a fruitless diversion, she blushed anyway. "Seriously, Neal."

  


"Relax, Kel. Tonight is a night for you to have fun. I wouldn't want to ruin that. Plus, the real question is what was so important that you chose to startle me out of my deep thought."

  


She let him change the subject but was still a little hurt that her best friend did not find it fit to confide in her. "I was just wondering if you were sure you wanted to escort me to the ball. When you're known as an indecent whore, there's bound to be talk," she replied, not without bitterness.

  


He frowned at her blunt language but refused to treat the matter as if carried importance. "Is that all you are worried about? Honestly, Kel, I thought you knew better. Of course people will gossip. What fault is it of ours if they have nothing better to do than ruin the lives of others just because they are jealous?" he said, brushing away her worries with the sweep of a hand. 

  


"I know," she persisted, feeling a bit sheepish, "but it's just that you and Yuki are so new together. I wouldn't want to cause any trouble."

  


"Don't worry. Yuki understands our friendship, and if she does not, I should not be with her anyway." Neal turned her towards him, forcing intense green to meet calm hazel. "Nothing, or no one will come between us, ever," he vowed. "You are my best friend, and I refuse to let you go for any reason."

  


Kel returned his promise with equal sincerity, touched. As the youngest of many in her family, no one had ever put her in first priority like Neal just had. Even Cleon had his mother and fief to look after before her. 

  


Another question formed in her mind. What had brought about this sudden emotion from Neal? She welcomed it as a good excuse to avoid her previous thoughts about Cleon. It was as plain as Kel thought her appearance to be that Neal's sudden vow was linked to the reason he had been so sad earlier. She was on the verge of demanding to know when she heard the herald. 

  


"Sir Keladry of Mindelan, escorted and accompanied by Sir Nealan of Queenscove!" he called.

  


"That's our cue," Neal said, offering her his arm.

  


She put her arm inside it as was done, whispered, "Nice job," to the herald, and let Neal lead her through the huge doorway. 

  


Kel, having no idea that almost fourteen years of warrior training had eliminated any of her clumsiness, was extremely self-conscious. "I've faced hill bandits, Balor's Needle, the Kraken, and my Ordeal, yet I'm terrified of a flight of stairs," she whispered as they descended.

  


Neal put a comforting hand on the one that lay on his arm. "You look beautiful, and you're not going to trip. Look down at the proud faces of the people who love you. You can do this, Kel; you've made it. Now, relax, and enjoy the moment."

  


She followed his advice, her heart feeling much lighter. First, she found her family. Her mother, Ilane, looking about ready to burst into tears, and her usually serene father, the Baron Piers, beaming. Even her two sisters, Oranie and Adie, looked proud. 

  


Her glance turned to Sir Raoul and the Lionness. Both wore expressions that said, "I knew she could do it," and, "Those are our squires."

  


When they reached the red carpet at the bottom of the stairwell, however, Kel's unease returned with full force. They were approaching the King! She quickly slipped her Yamani mask on and forced a smile as she studied her monarch.

  


He looked splendid in a deep sapphire outfit. From afar, it seemed that the only design was a silver embroidery on the edge of the long open vest he wore over his silk shirt, but as she came closer, Kel noticed that the pattern was embroidered all around it, in a shade just darker than the rest. Either way, the ruler was a picture of elegance.

  


Upon reaching King Jonathan, Neal bowed. Kel had to settle for a curtsy, however, for she was afraid that Lalasa's delicate creation would not be able to handle her bending over. When he kissed her hand in response, she was surprised to feel a note being slipped into her palm.

  


"For you and Nealan only," he whispered before going through the proper greetings and directing them to a seat. Kel hid her puzzlement as they were greeted by Sir Raoul, Buri, the Lioness, and the Baron Cooper, their dinner companions. 

  


"I wonder why we didn't have any balls thrown for us when we were knighted," Raoul joked with Alanna. "I'm sure you would have loved to dance the night away with all those ladies trying to snare the elusive 'Sir Alan'."

  


"Excuse me, but I recall another knight who happened to turn into a block when any court lady approached him. Strike your memory?" the violet-eyed knight retorted. 

  


"No, it doesn't ring a bell," he replied innocently. 

  


"Stop mocking her," Buri interjected. "At least she had a reason to avoid the girls. What was wrong with you?"

  


"What?!? Surely you've heard from the court gossips?" he exclaimed, feigning disbelief. "I also have adequatereason for not being attracted to the girls. It's because I'd much rather have the-" 

The Baron cleared his throat. "I think you'd best save your conversations for when there ain't a lad in your presence, waitin' t'serve you," Alanna's husband said, bringing all their attentions to a nervous looking, red-haired boy standing frozen, holding six glasses of wine. He's stunned to be in such company, Kel thought, remembering how she had dropped a bowl the first time she served the Lioness. 

As if snapping out of a trance, the grey-eyed boy swept a quick bow, muttered apologies and set the glasses down on the table before rushing back to the kitchens. 

She watched the boy go, frowning in thought. There was something familiar about that page, Kel just couldn't place it. 

"Don't you feel like you know him?" the young knight asked. Only Neal and Buri heard her, however, because the rest were starting to discuss how Tortall's current problems with Scanra compared to their previous war experiences at the River Drell and in the Immortals War, a conversation Kel and Neal were ill-suited to participate in, seeing as how they had no previous experience. 

"Nope, never seen him before," the leader of the Queen's Riders replied, before rebutting Raoul's point that they were similar by saying Tusaine was an organized kingdom, opposed to a unity of Scanran tribes, pulled together by single person. 

Neal, on the other hand, seemed to agree. "Yeah, it feels like I know him from somewhere." 

They both sat in silence a bit, trying to place the boy's face, but came up with nothing. Kel was the first to break away from her thoughts. She used this moment of peace to take in her surroundings. 

Tapestries decorated the walls of the Hall, depicting war legends and knight heroes, including warrior maidens of the past, she noted with satisfaction. From the ceiling hung the banners of the newly-knighted from her year. With pride, she singled out the Mindelan owl on a cream and blue banner. In the midst of all the color, Kel's eyes unconsciously sought out all the people she knew. Merric and Esmond were at a table on the opposite side of the room, seated with their former knight-masters. Her parents sat at the High Table, with the Yamani diplomats, at the right hand of King Jonathan. 

The thought of her monarch jolted Kel back to her table, more specifically her palm. She had never read the note. She was about to tell Neal when she heard a crash behind her and felt the splashing of water on her back. She turned around to see his soaked gold tunic sag as the page who was serving them bent down to pick up the upside down finger bowl laying on the floor. 

He looks terrified, Kel thought, eyeing the boy's blanched face under his freckles. She looked around; no one else had noticed but her and Neal, who had probably felt the splash. The rest were too engulfed in their conversation about Scanran war to have heard. She called to the boy. "Come here, please," she said in what she hoped were soothing tones. At her friend's questioning look, she quietly asked, "Do you remember what happened when you told Master Oakbridge that you spilled something in front of the people you were serving?" 

He winced and nodded, catching on the her plan. 

The page came forward slowly, expecting to be punished, despite Kel's effort to sound nice and well-meaning. "I'm so very sorry, my lord, my lady," he apologized. "If you would just excuse me, I'll tell my Master Oakbridge what happened and he'll send you someone else." 

"What's your name?" Neal questioned. 

"Kris, sir." 

"Ok, Kris, do you know who we are?" 

"N-no, sir." The page looked even more alarmed at the possibility that he might have offended someone of stature. 

Knowing that Kris had probably took her friend's dry voice for anger, she said, "I am Sir Keladry of Mindelan and this is Sir Nealan of Queenscove," in the kindest voice she could muster. 

It didn't help. If anything, the boy was even more frightened. "Mithros, you're the ones who are being honored today?" At their nods, he commenced apologizing again, "I'm so sorry for ruining your night-" 

"It's alright, can you give me that?" she interrupted, pointing to the bowl he was holding. 

"Sure, my lady," he replied, handing her the bowl, "or is it 'sir'?" 

"Kel's fine." The page watched, dumbstruck, as she poured water from her glass into it. "Neal, could you warm it a little with your Gift?" she requested. 

"Sure." Green fire shimmered around his fingertips as he waved a hand over the bowl. 

"Thank you. Now, you," she said, turning her attention back to Kris, "go around and have them wash their hands in it." 

"But surely, they'll know-" 

"Have they noticed anything so far?" Neal inquired. The page looked at Raoul, Alanna, Buri, and the Baron for a moment, shook his head, straightened the towel on his arm, and took the bowl. 

When he returned, Neal used his Gift to dry off the boy's tunic as well. "Thanks a lot," he said. "Cousin Cleon always said I was a clout-" 

"Cousin who?" they asked simultaneously. 

"Cleon of Kennan. He's a knight too. Wait, you said your name is Keladry?" At her nod, he smacked his forehead as if remembering something and continued, "You're the girl he fancies. He's betrothed, you know, but he's trying to get out of it, so he can marry you. Kicked up quite a dust back at home, Aunt was so angry. They argued about it."

Kel felt sick. Cleon and his mother had been fighting because of her? About marriage? First of all, she would never want to cause a rift like that between mother and son. And he hadn't even talked to her about marriage. They weren't ready; they hadn't even said, "I love you," to each other yet. 

"Are you alright?" Neal's voice gently brought her back to reality. 

"Yes." She looked around. Kris was gone. "Where'd he go?" 

"He went back to the kitchens. I think he knows that he upset you. Are you sure that you're alright?" 

"I'm fine." 

"I didn't know you and Cleon were that close," he commented quietly. 

Kel looked up at his face. There was some concealed emotion there. Was it hurt? "I didn't know either," she replied simply. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"No." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

For Kel, who had once again forgotten the note that she still held, the rest of dinner went by pretty uneventfully, until the King asked for a toast. 

"Thank you all for coming tonight," he started, his voice easily carrying throughout the room. "I hope all of you have been enjoying yourselves so far, but before we move on to the ball room, I'd like to make a toast. Would those being honored today please rise?" 

Kel slowly rose out of her chair, carefully concealing her emotions. She still wasn't sure about how she felt about this man who had put her on probation, stopped her hero from seeing her, and made Raoul so angry. 

"Upon your arrival at the Palace for training, I had told you that each of you were a gem. Well, now after eight years of cutting, polishing, and smoothing out flaws and rough places, you are finally ready to be put in your place on the Crown, and not at a better time. As war becomes inevitable, each one of you, all knights in fact, becomes more and more valuable to our kingdom. But, I warn you, all will not survive their service as knights. It is not all glory and heroics, as many have found out the hard way," he paused and turned his gaze straight to her and Neal.

"Nevertheless, even more people have thrived under this life of strife, which I hope will be your fortune. Now, will all or you step forward and take your rightful place as jewels in the Crown of Tortall? If not, please sit." 

No one moved. The King smiled, broke his commanding look from Kel and Neal, and raised his glass. "To the next generation of knights in Tortall. May they serve our kingdom well." 

"So mote it be," Kel murmured with the others as she rose her goblet and drank. Looking around, she saw the proud faces of Esmond, Merric and Seaver, looking like they could take on one of those metal creations all by themselves. Like before, she had to hand it to her monarch, he could inspire people to do great things. 

Right now, though, he seemed content to dance. "Now, if everyone would please follow me to the ballroom," he said, offering an arm to his wife, Queen Thayet. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

A/N: Another chapter. Thank you for everyone who took the time to review. It makes my day :). And special thanks to Ispreno who told me how to get italics and bold to work.

Don't forget to drop a review!

meghna

  
  



	3. Duty

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Another week, another chapter. This one's a bit long and talky, but it explains a lot and sets up more than a little. Enjoy!

The Protectors   
Chapter Three : Duty  
by: meghna 

*~*~*~*~*~* 

It had stopped snowing in Corus a bit over an hour ago, and the mosaic stone designs on the Palace Garden walkways were still hidden from view by a thick, white blanket. The servants didn't worry about it too much on this cold winter night, though; they could sweep in the morning. Afterall, no one would be crazy enough to take a walk in the Palace Gardens at this hour right after a storm. 

That is, unless they were asked to by their King. 

The evening that had gone by at a snail's pace before now seemed like a blur to Keladry of Mindelan as she pulled her dark brown, fur-lined coat closer to her body, waiting for an answer to the question Neal had just asked of the King and his Champion moments before. 

_"__I do not expect a decision from you this instant," Tortall's monarch had told them. "Talk it over, sleep on it,_ _discuss it between the two of you some more. Remember, it's both of you or neither. Now, I don't believe that_ _there's any more reason for us to stay outside. Alanna?" The coal-black haired man turned to the rather_ _ill-tempered lady on his left and offered a hand._

_"__Wait-" Neal put a black gloved hand up as if to physically stop them. "I have a question."_

_Kel stared at her green-eyed friend, trying to remember if she had ever seen him look so young, yet resolute, before,_ _but her search was cut short as the Lioness, impatient to get inside, prodded, "Yes, Neal?"_

_"__Why us?"_

Yes, despite the cold, she wanted to hear this. 

The older lady knight mumbled something about how this could be discussed inside, where it wasn't so "gods-cursed freezing," so Kel and Neal looked to King Jonathan, dressed nondescriptively in a long, burly black coat and sturdy black snow boots. The forty-year old man, calm exterior unruffled by the sudden blast of wind that blew snow from the bare trees into their faces and had Kel's teeth chattering, simply smiled. 

_I was supposed to relax and have fun tonight, not that that would've happened at a ball,_ she thought, more than a bit irked from all that had happened today and trying not to picture herself smacking the grin off of her ruler's face. _But still,_ _it had been promising. At least until we read that stupid note._

She had told Neal about it on the way to the ballroom, and they, after a short search for a deserted hallway, stopped by an old painting of King Jasson, grandfather of Jonathan, to read the creased parchment. 

_Emerald eyes scanned the lines as he read the neat cursive out loud:_

_"__Meet us by the reflecting pool in the Palace Gardens a quarter before midnight. Speak of this to no one else, and_ _be careful when discussing it amongst yourselves. Be sure not to leave the ball before the aforementioned time._

_Your duty to Tortall awaits. Are you ready to fulfill it?"_

_At first neither of them spoke, both at a loss for words. Kel used the silence to try and compose herself as a million_ _questions raced through her mind._

_He held the note up for her to see and asked, finally, "So what do you think of that?"_

_"__Nothing at all," she lied. "Ther-"_

_He frowned, emerald eyes boring into hers. "You have your Yamani mask on."_

_Kel looked down a bit, not knowing what to say. She couldn't tell Neal about the quest the Ordeal had given her,_ _therefore she couldn't share her fears that this might interfere. Neither was she quite ready to share her opinions_ _on their King. So she replied, "So I do."_

_For once, he knew when not to push the subject. Instead, Neal put a hand on her shoulder. "Try not to worry about_ _it too much, Kel," he advised softly. "What will come, will come, no matter a mere mortal's thoughts or actions."_ _ He then smirked trying to lighten the mood, and added, "And you were supposed to have fun tonight..."_

Neal's right_, she thought. _The Chamber said that my quest would find me. Maybe what the King wants to discuss with us will help me._ And as to King Jonathan himself, I don__'t have to like him, just serve him._

_She smiled. "I believe we have a ball to attend."_

_He grinned back, offering a green silk-clad arm, and replied "Shall we, my lady Keladry?"_

Kel was brought back to the present by the King's reply. 

"Believe me," the monarch started, "you two were not even a consideration when I first held the High Council meeting. I believe that we threw around names for an hour before someone spoke up-" 

"He didn't ask how they were chosen, Jon," Alanna snapped, shivering a bit even through the many layers she had on. Apparently her patience didn't agree with the cold. "He just asked why." 

King Jonathan didn't look too angry at all. He simply smiled, crossing his arms against his chest, and said in an amused tone, "I was getting there, lady knight. 

"As I was saying," he continued, turning his attention back to Kel and Neal, "the more we thought about it the more sense it made. Both of you learned the Scanran language in your lessons, along with the history and habits of every country in the Eastern Lands. You're good with weapons and are quick learners. You were both raised in royal Courts, and I do not care what country it's in, whether it be Tortall, the Yamani Islands, or Scanra, Court games are played the same. And of course there's no need to question your loyalty, the Chamber would have taken care of that." 

"But sire," Neal interjected, forever the arguer, "so many other, _older_ people fit that description."

Alanna smiled. "Yes, but not all of them have powerful magic potential, nor do they understand it half as well, which is very important, considering that magic is most probably somehow involved with those killing machines. Neal, you can talk circles around anyone, a very useful skill in a diplomat. You're the youngest person I know who's well-versed in politics and philosophy; you can actually read a book on that stuff without falling asleep, which is no mean feat. And you have been training with, excuse me for the lack of modesty, the best fencer in court. You almost unarmed me last week, remember?" 

Neal sighed dramatically and made as if to bow. "I know, I _am_ great, aren't I?" 

"Shush, Meathead." The redhead had picked up on Neal's least favorite nickname. 

Kel, who had been admiring the sky's icy reflection on the frozen pool next to them, smiled at this interchange and couldn't help but feel proud of her twenty-three year old friend. She also had no control over the thought that arose next. _But why did they choose me over any other girl? Only because Neal and I would work well together? _She knew that it was ridiculous as she thought it, but still– 

"That covers Neal," King Jonathan's deep voice was adressing her, "but you're now probably wondering why we chose you, Keladry." 

"Yes, I am," she answered honestly, although a bit disconcerted at how parallel the question was to her thoughts. 

"You, Keladry of Mindelan, are quick on your feet. I believe that is one of the reasons why Raoul chose you as his squire; he wanted to train you for a commander position. That particular skill, however, is useful in other professions also. It would definitely get you past many difficulties. Growing up with the Yamanis, you can disguise your emotions extremely well, including any uneasiness or anger if, no _when_, Tortall is discussed. Tortall's first known female knight would be used to offensive comments towards women, which is commonplace in Scanra. I trust you will be able to keep your temper where others wouldn't. The fact that you are a lady is very important. Scanran men don't give much credit to the opposite sex, probably because they do not let them get educated. They also know that women's rights have not been pushed for much at all in Tusaine. They will speak as if you're not there most of the time, and, here's the great part, a woman is expected to wait on her husband and his companions at all times, including _important meetings_. You are sharp, and I believe you will be able to absorb everything." He paused, maybe to breathe, Kel mused, and then turned to speak to her and Neal. "Plus the fact that as good friends you two would work well together. Yes, your age, or lack of it, is a setback, but bo-but you, Keladry, are mature enough for someone ten years older, and neither of you are rash or foolhardy. Now, does that explanation suffice in putting an end to your doubts?" 

Kel and Neal, both red from the accolade, nodded weakly. 

"Good, that means we can get inside. Come on, Jonathan, Thayet's probably waiting," Alanna said, getting up and stretching, at least as much as one can when wearing five layers of clothes. 

"I'm coming," the king replied, before rising. He brushed the snow off his coat, and said, "Try to give me a decision within the next two days. The sooner we have someone for this, the sooner we can start training." He turned and started walking after Alanna. 

"Your Highness!" Neal called at his retreating figure, one more question on his mind. 

Jonathan of Conte sighed and with the patience of an old man, returned, "Yes, Nealan?" 

Neal smiled a weak apology back and asked, "Who recommended us at the High Council meeting, sire sir?" 

_Now this, I want to hear_, Kel thought, chuckling inwardly at her friend's insistence to know everything. 

The King stared at Neal incredulously for a moment, then gave out a laugh. "My lord Cavall, if you must know. Yes," he continued, seeing the looks on their faces, "it came as a shock to us, too. We would have thought that it was some kind of joke if this weren't Wyldon we were talking about." The monarch left them with that to mull over, and turning away, called after his Champion, "Alanna! I think we have a chance!" 

Neal looked to Kel, missing a sight that would have amused him greatly: King Jonathan running after Alanna only to get a snowball to the face, "_The Stump_?" he asked, as if his brain had not yet processed it. 

"I know, who would have thought that?" Kel replied, putting her hands behind her head and leaning back, letting her emotions course through her, but not take over. It was a calming exercise she had learned years before. 

Neal ran both hands through his hair, which was now sticking up all over the place, and added in that absent-minded way one notices trivial things when faced with something much more important, "So that's why they made the trip down here so late." 

Kel nodded. She had wondered the same thing when they saw Owen earlier at the ball. 

He let out a deep chuckle. "The little whelp has changed, hasn't he?" 

It was true; a deeper voice than she remembered had called out to Neal when they were trying to leave ballroom earlier that night. 

_It had been time for them to go meet the King, and Kel and Neal had been making their exit when they heard the_ _call. "Neal! Oi, Neal, wait up!"_

_They turned around to be greeted by the sight of Owen of Jesslaw, dressed in Cavall colors, bounding toward_ _them without a whit of grace. He bumped into displeased courtiers left and right, only throwing a quick "Sorry!"_ _before going on._

_As the squire approached, Kel had noticed many changes. Owen was only a bit shorter than her now and had lost_ _quite a bit of weight. He had tanned considerably, bringing emphasis to his storm-grey eyes, which, to Kel's_ _immense relief, had not lost their childlike innocence or joy. The plumpness that Kel had come to associate with_ _him was absent also. He didn't seem to have grown into his height yet, though, because upon coming within a_ _long-sword's length of them, he tripped over his own feet and into Neal._

_"__Long time no see, whelp," Neal greeted cheerfully, clapping Owen on the back after carefully disengaging himself_ _from the younger man's bear hug._

_"__I know, I'm so glad my lord Cavall received that summons three weeks ago. Otherwise, we would have been in the_ _northern villages, trying to teach them to defend against any possible attacks come this spring," he replied._

_Kel put her hands on her hips and tried to look stern. "What, not even a hello?"_

_Owen looked at her for a moment, question mark shaped eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "_Kel_?"_

_She did her best to hide her uneasiness at this question. She wanted to ask, "I haven't changed that much, have I?"_ _but settled on, "Didn't even recognize me? I'm shocked, Owen, absolutely shocked."_

_"__But you're wearing a dress! Not like the ones you used to wear to dinner when we were pages, this one makes you_ _look all pretty and stuff," he babbled, trying to make amends for his mistake._

_"__Now there's your problem," Neal explained, raising an eyebrow at Kel. "He couldn't keep a hold on his tongue,_ _forcing the Stump to beat him so senseless that he can't even remember what his friends look like. Right, Owen?"_

_The seventeen year old stroked his now stubbly chin a bit, thinking, and answered, "Well, there _was_ that one time_ _when I accidentally called my lord 'the Stump' to his face...needless to say he wasn't too happy about that."_

_Kel's eyes widened in shock and pity, and Neal shook his head, saying, "That would only happen with you. Now,_ _pray do tell, how did you survive his punishment?"_

_Owen scratched the back of his head. "That's the weird thing. He just stared at me for a minute while I apologized,_ _then told me that we were going to go hunt bandits. Now, that was jolly."_

_"__Kel, my dear, I do believe that our former training master is loosening up," Neal stated wonderingly, as if he_ _didn't half believe it._

_For some reason, she wasn't nearly as surprised. Instead of responding, she poked at the arm muscle that was_ _evident even under Owen's uniform. "I see squirehood under Lord Wyldon has agreed with you," she commented,_ _changing the subject._

_Owen blushed and returned that it had been hard work, but he loved every minute of it._

_The three of them carried on like that for some time. It felt good to talk about old times and catch up, but Kel grew_ _uneasy as more time passed; they were going to be late for their rendez-vous. Finally, an old yearmate of Owen's_ _showed up and took him to meet his family, leaving Kel and Neal free._

_"__I guess we should get going," she suggested, "else we're going to be late."_

_"__Then what are we waiting for?" Neal demanded._

_And so they left._

_The atmosphere outside contrasted greatly with that of the ballroom. The cold night air was absolutely refreshing_ _for Kel, who had spent the last two hours smelling nothing but a mix of perfumes and colognes. Inside was bright,_ _with everyone's jewels and bright clothes catching the light of the chandelier as the orchestra's songs, magically_ _amplified to be heard over the people's voices, played non-stop, while here, the only light was that of the moon and_ _stars in the velvety black sky, making the snow glow softly, and the only music was an occasional breeze whistling_ _through the trees and bushes._

_They tried to navigate the paths, which was difficult even on a normal day, for the Palace Garden had been_ _designed like a maze, dozens of little walkways branching off to little secluded gardens, each hiding itself and the_ _others. It was worse today with the snow blanketing everything from sight._

_Cursing its length, Kel was forced to lift the skirt of her dress to keep it from getting dirty. The problem with this,_ _though, was that it let a lot of cold air in. They had planned to change before coming outside before they had met_ _with Owen. The meeting, however, left them only with enough time to put on some boots and grab coats from Neal's_ _room. She could only thank the Goddess that she had put leggings on under her dress._

_Almost tripping over her own feet, Kel grumbled, "Why do your feet have to be so big?" She had been forced to_ _borrow a pair of boots from Neal when they didn't have enough time to visit her quarters. Needless to say they were_ _huge on her._

_Neal rubbed his knuckles on his coat front and blew on them. "Well you know what they say about men. The bigger_ _the feet, the larger the--"_

_Kel slapped him on the arm. "Nealan of Queenscove! That's improper!"_

_He looked at her with mock puzzlement. "What's so improper and gross about having big hands, Keladry of_ _Mindelan?" he asked. Then, his expression turned from one of innocent confusion to that of one scandalized._ _"__You didn't think?" he gasped. "Lord and Lady, Kel, I'm shocked that you would ever think such a thing, shocked_ _and disappointed." He shook his head, starting to tsk at her. "Young people these days, I swear, their minds are_ _always in the slums of Corus."_

_"__Excuse me, old sir, but since when did you age twenty years?" she inquired, amused at his antics._

_He puffed his chest up like a six year old who had just learned how to lace his boots. "I'm five years older,_ _remember?" To illustrate, Neal held out a hand with all five fingers up to her face._

_"__But you make it so easy to forget," she retorted, brushing the long hand out of her way._

_He stuck his tongue out at her instead of responding. "One minute he's an old man, the next, he behaves like a five_ _year old," she muttered, throwing her arms up in defeat._

_Kel must have been speaking louder than she thought, because Alanna came around a turn on the path they were_ _following. "That's our Meathead," she agreed, reaching up to ruffle Neal's hair._

_Kel could only see the lady knight's face, plus a red curl or two that managed to escape her hood, under all the_ _clothes she was wearing. She wore fur-lined boots that covered up to her calves over a couple of pairs of pants, the_ _outer ones colored black. Her long, plum-colored coat was also lined and reached just past her knees. Normally it_ _was loose on her, but apparently Alanna had decided to wear more than a few layers of shirts. Her hood was pulled_ _over her hat in such a way that only the lady knight's eyes and nose were visible._

_"__Ah, my former knight-mistress," Neal greeted, rumpling her hair back affectionately, "are you in on this little_ _rendez-vous with our beloved monarch?"_

_"__Yes. That's why I distracted everyone at dinner with that 'discussion,' so you two could read the note under the_ _table. What's been taking you so long anyway? Jon and I've been waiting forever in the cold, so I went out to look for you_ _two."_

_Kel apologized quickly, knowing how much the King's Champion hated cold temperatures. "We're sorry, my lady,_ _for the inconvience, but we don't really know our way around here."_

_Alanna scrunched up her nose. "I don't believe I have been addressed so formally in a long time. Please, Keladry,_ _call me Alanna. I'm not that easily offended."_

_Neal snorted and was no doubt about to make some smart comment but Kel beat him to talking. "Right, then you_ _can call me Kel, A-alanna," she replied. It didn't exactly feel right speaking with her childhood hero on a first_ _name basis but calling her anything else now would seem ridiculous._

_"__Where is his Highness?" Neal wondered, looking about him as if the monarch might jump out of a bush._

_"__By the reflecting pool, in case you two made it back before me," she replied. Then, turning them by the shoulders_ _in an about face, Alanna continued, "Which is, by the way, that way."_

_Neal scratched his head sheepishly for a moment but soon got over that. "We probably would have gotten there_ _eventually," he said confidently. "You said all the paths here were connected, did you not?"_

_"__Yes, Neal," Kel could help interjecting, "but like a maze. We could have frozen to death before getting there, with_ _a few wrong turns." To the lady knight, she added, "Thanks, Alanna, for coming to get us."_

_The older woman brushed off the gratitude. "No problem. See, Meathead, she understood it perfectly, what's_ _wrong with you?"_

_Neal looked away, apparently offended, even though both Kel and Alanna knew it was just a front. "Shouldn't we_ _be heading for the King?" he asked rather stiffly._

_"__Aww, is Neal in a bad mood?" she inquired teasingly, violet eyes sparkling as she got on her tippy-toes to put an_ _arm around his shoulders. Kel was surprised at Alanna's flexibility despite the burly layers. "It's okay," she_ _continued, "we still love you. Don't we Kel?"_

_"__Of course," Kel agreed, a smile touching at her otherwise calm face, "who couldn't love this idiot?"_

_At this, Neal smiled. "I know, I know," he consented, ignoring the part about being an idiot. "You can't help it,_ _I'm just too irresistible." He sighed. "Too bad it's not requited."_

_Alanna just snorted at the thought of her former squire being "irresistible", and Kel just chuckled, not even bothering to retort the playful insult he had dealt._

_They made their way through the snow, Alanna leading the way. Kel tried to concentrate on keeping her footing on_ _the slippery ground, instead of letting her imagination wander with what King Jonathan wanted with them. She_ _schooled her face to polite blandness in preparation to see the man she had yet to figure out._

_He was on the corner of two benches, wiped free of their snow cover by restless hands. He looked like a silhouette,_ _dressed in all black, from coat to boots, against the light of the reflecting pool. Kel saw him before he noticed they_ _were there. He was pacing back and forth, only stopping once lean on the now bare cherry blossom tree, head_ _down, handsome face etched with not only worry for their safety but all the worries of a king. She stared, not_ _knowing what to think._

_It was over in the blink of an eye; as soon as he saw them, Jonathan of Conte straightened, all emotion leaving his_ _face, and once again became the all powerful, forever composed Ruler of Tortall. Kel heard a small sigh_ _coming from her left; Alanna had also noticed the change in her old friend._

_King Jonathan clapped his hands together and told them to sit down, so he could finally get started. They obeyed,_ _Kel and Neal sharing a bench and Alanna taking the other, leaving space for Jonathan to sit. He took it and sat_ _back. "You two are probably wondering why we asked you here on this cold night." It was a statement, a bit_ _awkward, but even Kel couldn't blame him._

_"__Way to state the obvious," Neal commented dryly. At Alanna's glare, he added, "Sire sir." He leaned back also,_ _throwing an arm to rest on the back of the bench behind her, more relaxed in the familiar territory of sarcasm._ Some day,_ Kel thought, _some day that tongue of his is going to get him in some real trouble. 

_"__Point taken, knight," Jonathan acknowledged, getting up and starting to pace in front of them. "I suppose the best_ _place to start would be the beginning._

_"__I'm sure you two paid attention in Sir Myles' class. Do you know what happened a little less than three decades_ _ago?"_

_"__Tortall was forced to defend her rights on the Drell River Valley against Tusaine, sire," Kel replied, almost_ _automatically, though a bit puzzled. What did a small war that happened twenty-seven years ago have anything to_ _do with now?_

_"__That was my first war, as well as Alanna's first time and only time being captured," he stopped briefly to address_ _Alanna. "Right, love?"_

_"__That summer was full of 'first times,'" she replied, a mysterious smile in her violet eyes. "But get on with the tale!_ _You come and save me, with help, and in the process capture the King's two brothers, ending the war and setting up_ _a treaty very much in our favor. Neal, what were the provisions of that treaty? And stop slouching! You remember_ _that old man with a curved spine we had to heal."_

_Neal ran a hand through his hair, irritated, but straightened nonetheless. "Tortall retained possession of the Drell_ _River Valley, with a promise of no future interference. Tusaine was to pay a fee of ten gold nobles to the family of_ _each casualty," he recited as if reading straight from a text book. "Each country was under the obligation to send troops if the other_ _was attacked by any other country in the Eastern Lands, including Scanra, Galla, Maren, or Tyra. It was also_ _expected that either country share any threatening information regarding the other." Under his breath so only Kel_ _could hear, he added, "What is this, a history lesson?"_

_"__Good," King Jonathan commended. Then in a softer voice: "My father was known as the Peacemaker for good_ _reason. He wished not to make war, but friends. King Roald designed that treaty to forge an alliance type of_ _relationship between Tortall and Tusaine."_

_He sat down, examining the sapphire ring on his right hand, and Alanna picked up. "So what does that have to do_ _with today?" she asked rhetorically, moving her black scarf under her chin for clearer speech. "King Ain's has passed,_ _his son, Aren, is now on the throne, and Tortall as a kingdom is having troubles with Scanra, not in the east. It all_ _started the other day, as I was just about ready to make the trek back home, had Beast saddled and everything, when you, Neal, come running up to me with a message from the King."_

_Kel spared a glance for her brown-haired friend. He was stroking the nonexistent stubble on his chin, probably_ _wondering what exactly King Jonathan had told him to say._

_"__I was calling a High Council Meeting," the ruler explained. "Word had just come in from Sir Myles that Maggur_ _is now officially king of Scanra. The few clans not under his banner were already subdued. Apparently he knew this_ _was coming for a while. I had also received a message from the Carthaki emperor, Kaddar; 'King' Maggur_ _Rathhausak offered an alliance and one eighth of Tortall if Carthak helped attack our kingdom. He refused, thank_ _Mithros, and notified us."_

_It took Kel a moment to realize that the sharp intake of breath she had heard was her own. This news meant full,_ _blown out war with Scanra, not just the border battles of the summer. Plus those killing machines _and _possible_ _alliances? Her beloved Tortall could be in real trouble._

_Coming from her left, Kel could hear Neal giving off a string of the most colorful language she had ever heard from_ _her elegant friend. This really surprised her, considering the many times she found herself being scolded by him for_ _using "indecent language." _"Cursing is not my style," he would say, brushing the insulting language off his shirt and wiping it from his hands "and shouldn't be yours. It's brutish and uncivilized." 

_"__My sentiments exactly," was all that Alanna responded with, although Kel could see the worry in her crease of_ _brow._

_King Jonathan laughed, a dry chuckle devoid of humor. "It got worse. People on the borders were starting to_ _report more and more of those damned killing machines. There aren't as many deaths now that we know how to kill_ _them, but dismantling those metal creatures takes man-power that we can't afford to lose come spring. I was_ _beginning to think that I would have to dust off the Dominion Jewel._

_"__Anyway, I had just taken a ride to clear my mind a bit before the meeting and was brushing Beauty, when the_ _George comes running into the stables waving a piece of paper about and talking of secret letters and such.."_

_King Jonathan paused here, until Neal, who had been sitting straighter in his seat at each word spoken, got_ _impatient, and demanded, "Well, what did the letter say?"_

_His highness looked pleased and nodded to him as if Neal had just passed a test. "It was from Aren, king of_ _Tusaine," he replied, his mood suddenly grim. " 'King' Maggur invited a Tusainian ambassador to Scanra, in_ _hopes of forming a relationship between the two countries. The maggot is no fool though. He knew Tusaine was_ _aware of our border troubles with Scanra. He proposed an alliance between the two countries and mentioned giving_ _Tusaine one fifth of Tortall."_

_"__But he only offered Kaddar one eighth," Kel noticed, not liking where this whole conversation was going._

_"__Exactly," Alanna agreed angrily. "What makes Tusaine so special?"_

_A map of the Eastern lands flashed in Kel's mindsight and she saw the problem, almost immediately wishing she_ _didn't. "He wants to attack us on all sides," she answered with a sinking feeling in her stomach. "The Carthaki_ _Empire isn't extremely key because all it can really provide is naval help to either Scanra or Tortall. Plus, with a little_ _help from the Copper Isles, his navy can keep ours busy on the west coast. Next to Scanra, though, Tusaine shares the largest border with our kingdom."_

_"__Spread us out trying to defend three sides for easy pickings," Neal said, also suddenly serious. "I'd bet almost anything that he offered_ _an alliance to Tyra, too."_

_King Jonathan nodded, "Very good you two. King Aren is young, you know. I thank Mithros everyday that he was_ _honest enough to send me a copy of the letter from Scanra, but when I read what he suggested... I just thought that_ _young people are foolhardy and heroic. If he were a couple of years older, the idea would not have even entered his_ _mind. George had to go discuss something with Myles so I fetched Alanna over here. We had a few candlemarks to_ _kill before the meeting, and I didn't think it would hurt to get some one-on-one feedback. She thought--"_

_"__That we should try it," Alanna interrupted, trying to rub her gloves together for warmth. "This is bound to be a_ _long, drawn-out war and Tusaine was offering us a way to shorten it on a silver platter. It could at least provide_ _some valuable information, especially about those killing machines and maybe even his hostages. I think Maggur_ _really wants Tusaine's help. He would tell her ambassador whatever needed to enforce Scanra as a powerful and_ _stable nation that's going to win this war."_

_Kel and Neal seemed to realize what the king and his champion wanted them to do at the same time._

_"__Hold on," Neal stopped them, "so I can get this straight."_

_Kel picked up from here. "You want us, Keladry of Mindelan and Nealan of Queenscove, to act as ambassadors of_ _Tusaine and travel to enemy land as spies?"_

_Alanna nodded, albeit a bit reluctantly._

_Neal needed a bit more clarification. "Why can't Sir Myles get one of his spies to do it?"_

_"You've heard Myles lecture, he doesn't believe in heroics," the king replied, sounding a bit annoyed. Kel almost frowned; she liked Sir Myles and didn't appreciate King Jonathan not accepting his beliefs just because they didn't suit his needs. "Plus, the spies he places in Scanran houses are servants. No matter how good he or she is, it would be hard for a commoner to play the part of a true noble."_

_"And you two really believe that we know anything about being ambassadors?" Neal couldn't help but asking._

_"__You make it sound like we want to send you there tomorrow!" the redhead replied indignantly. "Kel's parents were ambassadors in the Yamani Islands for six years--"Kel didn't think this was good time to point out that the Yamani Islands and Scanra couldn't be less similar--"You know Scanran well enough, and Tusaine's language is the same, just with a different accent. What you don't know we'll make sure to teach you."_

_"__The whole High Council agreed with this?" Kel wondered skeptically._

_"__Yes," Jonathan of Conte responded. "We have the whole thing planned out. I just wanted to spare you the details_ _just in case you decide not to do this. If that happens, the less you know, the better."_

_Kel whistled; people on the High Council like Lord Wyldon and Sir Myles seemed too cautious. Tortall must be in a very tight spot for them to have agreed with a plan like this. _

_"__I know it sounds ridiculous and far-fetched," Alanna said, almost pleadingly, " but we have gone over it a million_ _times, individually and as a group. The whole thing can, and will, be achieved, not to mention with great results._ _You two can really help out your country here, more aptly then anyone else in this case."_

_Kel looked to Neal. She had already made her mind to do anything to serve Tortall, no matter how dangerous, and_ _knew that he would feel the same way, but she just wanted to gauge his real, initial reaction._

_He grinned weakly. "Sounds like fun?"_

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

  


Hm, the main plot makes it's first appearance...

  


THANK YOU to everyone who took the time to review. As for the shipping, I'll say this: Each one (k/c, k/n, k/d) will be addressed in the story, whether it will be ending the relationship, closure, or the real thing remains to be said.

  


Questions, comments, flames? Review!

meghna


	4. Love Letters and Prophecies

Disclaimer: Tortall...no. Kel and Neal? Haha. The characters, what about them? Still no. Ha, the plot! I'm the author, that has to be mine! Well, mostly, but....NO.

  


A/N: In this chapter is one of the few things, or people in this case, that I borrowed off of Lady Knight. There was a character quite like this in my original story, and after I read LK, Irnai just seemed to fit in with her, for more than obvious reasons. So please do not get confused or say that she is OOC. In some ways, this is the same Irnai as LK, but in other ways she is not.

  


The Protectors

by meghna

Chapter Five: Love Letters and Prophecies

  


The cool feel of snowflakes tickling her nose and decorating her long lashes brought Kel's attention back to the present---half a bell later—and the wooden bench, where she now sat alone.

  


She rose briskly and brushed the white off her coat, wondering vaguely when the snow had started up again. Although her calm expression would speak otherwise to most, the excitement of action was flowing through the lady knight's veins. She would finally get to _do_ something about the task set to her by the Chamber of Ordeal. No more waiting for spring to thaw out the roads and bring war to her kingdom, no more waking after another nightmare with nothing to do but curse Blayce. Gone were half-serious notions to ride into enemy territory alone to hunt down the Gallan. She now had the chance to travel into the Scanran capital openly to help Tortall's intelligence _and_ find the Nothing Man, with the backing of two kingdoms.

  


_With the backing of two kingdoms,_ Kel repeated to herself, her eyes widening as a new, terrible possibility occurred. That also meant the responsibility to Tortall and Tusaine to carry out the farce in Hamrkeng. But what if Blayce wasn't in the capital? What if he had chosen to hide out in some unknown castle fief? She would be trapped, playing the deceptively harmless ambassador's wife in a dangerous game with more than only her life at stake. Deserting to find the Nothing Man wouldn't only mean her dishonor, it would risk the lives of Neal and everyone else involved. 

  


Kel sighed and clamped down on her worry with a Yamani-born control, refusing to pick at it there. She had only succeeded in muddling up her emotions with useless hypotheticals. She would fulfill her duty to Tortall _and_ the task set to her by the Chamber, both before too many of her people were killed on a battlefield. No but's, no if's. Just that simple fact.

  


Ponderings and initial reactions done with, Kel took a moment for a quick survey of her surroundings, immediately finding her green-eyed companion. Neal was standing on the edge of the reflecting pool, probably contemplating the night's events, with his large hands burrowed deeply into the fleece-lined pockets of his evergreen coat, lively crown hair disheveled from the many times he had run his hands through it that night. 

  


Hiding the half-smile that threatened to emerge, Kel shook her head at memories of the days when she had so often found herself longing to be the one hand-brushing those straight locks. _That's Yuki's job now_, she thought, though doubting that the plump Yamani would be so bold.

  


Neal looked up, catching her stare, and grinned cheekily, presumably finished thinking through whatever needed pondering. Returning smile, she walked up to him, her long skirts brushing the snow away with every step.

  


"We should probably head inside," Kel suggested, eyeing his reddened nose upon closer inspection, "before you catch something in this weather."

  


Instead of replying directly to her request, Neal hooked his arm in hers, slightly uncomfortably because of their large coats, and led her to the paths, this time choosing the one that would take them to their wing reserved for knight quarters.

  


_Knight quarters,_ Kel repeated to herself, not without pride. _I still can't believe it._

  


She gently disengaged her arm from his, unable to walk with the long, easy gait Neal gracefully retained even in the snow. Kel had to hold up her skirts and trudge warily, wincing slightly as their crunching steps disturbed the uncanny, heavy silence of a true winter night.

  


From her side, Neal, suffering from no such uneasiness, lifted his head to face the now cloudy night sky, mouth wide open, and wondered aloud, "Whe dit star snahing ageh ?"

  


Somehow, she managed to decipher his question as "When did it start snowing again?" and answered accordingly. "I have no idea, but it's kind of hard to understand you when you try to speak without closing your mouth," Kel informed him. "What are you doing anyway?"

  


He closed his mouth to face her without sheepishness. "I was trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue, like we used to do in the winter back in Queenscove. You've never done it before?"

  


"No, the Yamani Isles never had that much snow. All the mountains always weakened the storms before they reached the city," she replied, a smile tugging at her lips when she thought of a young Neal enjoying the snow at Queenscove. She had heard that the fief was quite beautiful in the winter.

  


"Somehow I doubt the ever-so-solemn Yamanis would indulge anyway," Neal drawled, a small frown tugging his eyebrows together. "It's fun though; you should try it."

  


"I'd rather not expose my face to the cold air, thank you," Kel said sternly. "I don't have the Gift to fend off a chill or cold." 

  


"And what am I, a carpenter?"

  


"No, but for some reason I have this odd notion that you'd make a fine lady in waiting."

  


Neal threw up his hands in disgust. "Try to help a friend cheer up, and this is how I am repaid!" he muttered loudly. "Where is justice?" 

  


Kel pursed her lips in thought. "Seriously though, you _knew_ what to do with my hair and face paint, Neal. Is there something you're not telling me?"

  


He smiled weakly. "Beginner's luck?" At her insistent look, he finally grumbled, "Fine! Alanna made me learn."

  


That was not the response Kel expected, though she didn't really know what she would have considered normal. "I wasn't aware that it was a requirement for knight training," she said dryly. "Should I be asking Raoul something?"

  


"If you say a word, I'll deny it, and then I'll go to Raoul and tell him you're getting rusty at jousting and suggest some extra practice. Or should I say flying lessons?" Neal shot back, although they both knew that neither would do any such thing.

  


"Why did you have to learn how to be a lady-in-waiting, Neal?" she asked instead of keeping up their banter, genuinely curious.

  


He sighed. "Alanna had to disguise herself as a very rich widow, entourage and all, to acquire some very delicate information for the King. _I_ wanted to be her healer or man servant or even stable boy, but they had the brilliant notion that I would be privy to more information as the rich widow's faithful lady-in-waiting."

  


Squinting her eyes a bit, Kel tried to picture him playing the part. "They actually expected people to believe you were a six foot two tall, broad-shouldered, very strong lady-in-waiting with just an unfortunate figure?"

  


"With the help of a glamour spell, yes. But I still had to wear the wigs and dresses and act like her maid," he made a face, presumably at the bad memories. "It was worth it, though. We finally caught the child-napper near the Border."

  


She closed her eyes, letting the image of what machines those Tortallan children were being used for pass. "It was worth it," Kel agreed. Deciding to change the subject, she asked, "So, what else did you learn from the Lioness? How to hold your tongue?"

"Oh, yes, and Lady Sharp Tongue herself is the best of teachers," he retorted. "But truly, Alanna did teach me a lot these past four years. I finally received training for weapons and magical wounds and long term illnesses and wounds."

  


Kel smiled, knowing Neal had always regretted his incomplete training as a Healer. It always made her wonder what had possessed him to leave the University. "Did you fill in with all that you missed leaving early?" she inquired.

  


Neal nodded enthusiastically. "And more."

  


He went on to describe some of the experiences he had Healing different maladies under the Lioness' teachings. Kel was content to listen, only asking here and there for further explanation, as they picked their way through the blanketed paths.

  


After what seemed like a short time, they came to the West entrance, which led to the three room suites that held most knights in residence.

  


They shook out their boots on an outside mat, sparing a thought for the new plush red carpet installed in the halls (another improvement made during the Royal Progress) and headed inside for the warmth of a fire-placed room, either Kel's or Neal's.

  


Kel's room was closest, though, so that was where the weary pair headed. Kel didn't think she had ever been so happy to see her sturdy oak door as she fit her special silver key into the magicked lock and whispered her name. 

  


Though she could not see him, Kel could hear the frown in Neal's voice as he asked, "Are you still worried about vandalism?"

  


The locked clicked with a characteristic tingle, and she swung the door open gladly to a small sitting room/study. The shadows of her prized waving Yamani cats danced mischievously in the light of a fire a blessedly considerate servant had thought to light. To Neal, she replied matter-of-factly, "Now that I'm alone and out of the protection of the Knight Commander, I don't want to take any chances that someone's going to doubt my right to be here and decide to do something about it."

  


"But there's one flaw in your thinking, my dear," Neal told her, stepping in the cozy room after. "You're not alone in this wing. You have all of us– me, Merric, Seaver, Esmond–to, ah, _warn _off any ill-wishers. Not to mention that you could easily school any doubters in a thing or two on the practice courts."

  


Kel peeled off the borrowed brown coat and draped it on a chair near the fireplace with her gloves, hoping to give them a chance to dry. "We're supposed to be considered adults now," she reminded her green-eyed friend, motioning for him to take a seat at her pine-wood desk. "We can't go brawling like we used to as pages. It's childish."

  


"And I suppose urinating on someone's doorway is the height of sophisticated maturity?" he drawled, also removing his green coat, gifted by Yuki for Midwinter, before taking the proffered seat. "Maybe the next time Yuki and I quarrel, I can get Jump over there–" he gestured to the shadowed lump laying on the rug in front of the fireplace, "–to help me out–"

  


"Spare me the details," Kel pleaded dryly, as she stepped up on chair to light the dangling ceiling candle fixture every study was now equipped with. "But what is this I hear about a quarrel with Yuki?"

  


Rising from his comfortable chair to give her a hand down, Neal responded, "It was hypothetical."

  


She took his steady grip with a smile of thanks and inquired further. "So things are going well with you two? I don't want to pry, but you two are good friends," Kel fumbled a bit, wondering at her own sudden hesitance.

  


"Nonsense," Neal assured her. "If you wanted to pry, you'd be a lot more vexing. Yuki and I are doing fine."

  


"So no quarrels?"

  


"Not even a friendly debate. We've only been together for a week or two."

  


"Well that's good to know," Kel said, setting her chair back against the wall next to her half-empty bookshelf. "Would you mind making yourself at home for a moment while I go change? I've been in this gown forever!"

  


"Not at all," he answered, plopping himself back into the cushioned chair at her desk. Then, flashing a wicked grin, "Need help untying the laces?"

  


Kel had the grace to blush, though she knew he was just jesting. "Don't sound so eager," she joked back, batting her eyelashes in a ridiculous imitation of a Court flirt, "or I might forget that you're taken."

  


She ambled into her bedroom, then her adjoined dressing room, leaving a slightly red Neal with raised eyebrows and shaking in laughter.

  


It was a bit of a struggle, but Kel managed to get out of the complicated gown without her 'lady maid's' help and hang it up, to be dealt with later. For clothing, she chose a soft, worn-in pair of breeches and a loose faded-navy colored shirt. To keep warm, she left on her stockings and grabbed a white undershirt to wear over her breast-band. The lady knight kicked out, happy to able to move freely again. She moved to open the door, ready to leave, when Kel caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Makeup or no, she would never be a beauty, but she allowed herself to admire her reflection anyway; Neal had done a nice job.

  


_Did I just think that?_ she asked herself, still not used to the idea of Neal having served as a lady maid. The thought only made her chuckle, so Kel bent over to wash her face over the basin.

  


Neal was examining the mess on her desk when she finally came out. "You should really clean this up," he commented, shifting some of the King's Own supply papers into a neat pile, to reveal a folded piece of parchment. "Hm, what's this? Could it be?" he exclaimed, sounding very much like a child in a confection shop. Kel did not need to see the _"To: Cleon"_ on the front to recognize the letter as the one she had written before her Ordeal. "Yes, I think it is," Neal continued to tease. "A love letter to her beloved Cleon. Ah, how sweet. Maybe tomorrow we can write poems together." 

  


He made as if to open it, but Kel was faster. She snatched the letter from his hands and replaced it with the boots she had been forced to borrow earlier. "Here, thanks for lending me these."

  


"Ouch, parchment cut," he complained, squeezing the forefinger of his right hand.

  


"Serves your right for being nosy," she replied, putting on her own indoor boots after tossing the letter back on her desk.

  


Quickly running a finger over his cut, effectively sealing it up with his Gift, Neal stood up to retrieve his coat. "Can't blame me for being curious," he defended. "'Tis a part of human nature."

  


Kel looked up from her lacing to see Neal's belongings gathered in his long arms as he readied to leave. "Where are you going?" she demanded, raising to meet him.

  


"Well, Kel, it would hardly be seemly for me to sleep here, though your bed does look rather cozy. But, alas, what will Yuki think?"

  


"But we should talk about this whole thing, think about questions we have!"

  


Neal sighed. "Kel, it's two bells past midnight. Can this please wait until tomorrow?"

  


"Aren't you the least excited about this?" she asked, a bit irritated.

  


"Right now the only exciting prospect to me is a warm bed," he grumbled. Then, seeing her disappointed expression, Neal softened and added, "We're both tired, Kel. How about tomorrow, when I'm a little less sleep-deprived and the enormity of this whole Scanra thing will have hit me, we can meet at the morning mess and go down to the infirmary to meet Father. He wanted to talk to me anyway, and he's on the Council, so he could probably answer any questions we might have. We can pick away and dissect this situation to your heart's content."

  


Kel caught herself beginning to yawn and realized just how exhausted she really was. It had been an eventful day to say the least, and she had been up before dawn. She nodded to Neal. "Fair enough. I'll see you tomorrow morning?"

  


He smiled at her with bleary eyes. "Count on it." Then, before turning to leave, Neal turned to her. "I know you're going to worry, but just try to get some sleep."

  


She nodded once again and closed the door behind him, only pausing to throw an old letter in the waste basket before heading off to bed.

  


*~*~*~*~*

  


_Devdas had been called to serve at the lord's keep four days ago, along with all other orphans of the village aged ten to thirteen years; apparently the mage lord would be throwing his very important visitor an impressive welcome, and he needed extra hands, old enough to be of some use, young enough to play the part of respectable pages._

  


_Mag, the only mother-figure he had ever known, had been adamantly against him going, but everyone knew what happened to a village who refused a summons. Devdas, more pig-headed than she, refused be the cause of punishment. Plus, any child who had been asked to the lord's castle always returned, shaken but otherwise unharmed. It was when a child disappeared in the dead of the night that a family had any real cause to worry._

  


_But that hadn't happened for weeks, and if the 'important visitor' from Hamrkeng he was currently pouring wine for had his way, it wouldn't again for months._

  


_The merry music of a celebration in full tilt carried over to the small study they were in, no one seeming to notice or care that the host and guest of honor had made a premature exit. Devdas himself would have been in the latter category if Mercy, the grim-faced maid of the castle, had not yanked him and the next closest page by the black collar of their semi-fine uniforms. _

  


_"Lord Blayce wants t'entertain his guest in 'more private settings'. You," her worn index finger poked at Irnai's, the other girl's, small chest, "will be servin' their wittles from the kitchens. You, boy, will keep their goblets full wit' good wine. Now off to the lord's study!"_

  


_Which was how Devdas had come to be in the presence of the most talk- and terror-inspiring men of the land and listening intently as the curly brown-haired main tried to persuade the pimply lord of his village to travel to Hamrkeng._

  


_"I don't think I should go," the fidgety castle lord argued, staring at his chewed fingernails with a chilling twist of his lips. A small man, rather unremarkable besides his overwhelming tendency to fidget and overall pathetic-ness, it was hard to believe that this Lord Blayce held the land's most powerful and gruesome weapons in his twisted little mind. "Spring is approaching, and there's just so much work left to do..."_

  
  


_"But representatives from Tusaine and the Copper Isles will be visiting. We need your talents to impress the threat we pose to Tortall." This man seemed much more the lord, with his deep, honeyed voice; perfect, dark brown curls; and high cheekbones, effeminate on anyone else. Devdas had heard many speaking of this man, called Nath. Without holding any land or title, he was considered the most powerful man in Scanra. Even more so, some whispered to those few trusted, than the King._

  


_"But how will I conduct my business in the capital?" Blayce asked, his eyes flashing. Obviously he felt no awe of Nath's position, considering his own power ample shield. "The haughty city people and nobles cannot appreciate the beauty of my work!"_

  


_Nath had the grace to look disgusted at the glazed, hungry look of his host. But then he sneered, and Devdas knew that this man was no better. "But Blayce, my lord, King Maggur appreciates your work," his smooth, velvety voice coaxed Blayce, bent his weakness to his own will and purpose. "He will even give you more dolls to play with once you reach the capital. For whatever you wish, not just the machines." The persuasiveness of his voice both awed and frightened him, and, in that moment, she knew how he could be the most powerful man in all of Scanra._

  


_Blayce looked back and forth between Nath's poised face and his chewed, bitten fingernails. Devdas could not decide whether his darting eyes were that of the hunter or prey. "More dolls..." he repeated to himself, thoughts and fantasies a young, clear-minded boy could not begin to fathom twisting through his mind. Then, his eyes cleared to their normal dull brown, and he became once again the fidgety lord of the castle whom he despised but did not fear. "I will see what I can do," Blayce replied, chewing on the skin around his thumbnail and trying to keep the power in the conversation._

  


_"And that is all I can ask." Nath rejoined humbly, though his eyes shone with the smugness of a cat with freshly caught prey. He knew he had won despite Blayce's pitiful attempt at vagueness._

  


_At that moment, a brush of cloth outside the tapestry warned the lord and his visitor (or was it the host and his lord?) of an intruder. Blayce rose, ungainly, from his seat, no doubt attempting to assert his power as the lord in a mighty roar. "Who dares interrupt us when I have requested total privacy?!?"_

  


_Just as he finished his outburst, Irnai stepped past the maroon tapestry with her characteristic quiet grace, carrying a tray laden with various fruits and cheeses. She appeared small and meek in her slightly large page's uniform, her wild, grey-streaked brown hair escaping the confines it had been coerced into to make her look like a boy. "I'm sorry truly, m'lord," she apologized in a tiny voice. "Here's the wittles fresh you asked me nicely t'bring from the kitchens right quick, my lord."_

  


_He tried to keep his expression smooth and unchanged, but his full brow furrowed slightly anyway. In the countless years he had known and survived with her, Irnai had never spoken with a village child's accent, always in the clean pretty Scanran of the learned. And never had she carried herself as less than a very small woman, not the hopeless ragamuffin Blayce faced now. What was Irnai up to?_

  


_"Sit down, you fool!" Nath ordered, irritated. "She is nothing more than one of your own servants following your orders." Blayce obeyed, looking much more the dolt for it. "Pages, place your burdens on the table here and be dismissed. We will serve ourselves."_

  


_He hurried to do Nath's bidding and be out of his sight, placing the wine pitcher on the aforementioned table next to the forgotten goblets. Irnai, however, stood rooted like an oak in a storm, clutching her tray tightly like it was her only hold to the stable ground._

  


Oh no!_ he inwardly cried as he saw the fine beads of sweat breaking out on Irnai's forehead, the paleness spreading across her face, the color of her wide eyes changing to stark, hopeless black, all telltale signs that she was about to go into trance._

  


_He saw Nath's grey eyes widen in a rare true expression of surprise as he no doubt felt all the power of the moment shift to Irnai. A distant clatter and scattered muffled thumps told him that she had dropped the metal tray, his last coherent thought before Irnai ceased to be herself and became the Mother, with a voice too beautiful and terrible to be described._

  


_He tried not to cover his ears as the Mother/Irnai began to speak. _"Dare to hope, people of three lands! For they are coming. Heroes they will be to some, great enemies to deserving others. Beware, those deserved, for a mage who can heal life can also unravel it. It is this healer's, this guardian's, will to protect those loved and those worthy at any cost that will leave a land kingless and finally shine light on the darkness of betrayal. Ah! A betrayal so great that it will upset the balance between all: ruler and his people, friend and friend, lover and lover, enemy and enemy, even kin and kin. Of two heritages, the other will adopt a third to fulfill a knight's need to protect all those small. This knight will come bearing Duty and Law to bring an end to the Pervert and heal the sickness that plagues the people. The sword-bearer will free those bound. These two must learn to find what is right in front of them, for their tasks are intertwined; one cannot succeed without the other. More than destiny bound, they are the protectors of the small, the guardians of the worthy. Dare to hope, people of three lands, for the protectors are coming!"

  


_And then it was over. As the echo of the Mother's last warning and promise faded, so did the power in Irnai as she once again came back to Earth. Devdas rushed forward to catch her as she fell, remembering the times when Mag had held her as he eased her small body down to the rich carpet. _Well, _he thought to himself,_ Irnai's gone and got herself inta a good bit o'trouble, and Mag's not here ta bail us out. But that Nath sure as sunrise ain't gonna use her. Not if I can help it.

  


_He widened his eyes in fear, forcing tears to them. "I don't know what just happened," he exclaimed, hoping against hope that Irnai would not wake up. But he did know. Irnai was a prophet, a Voice for the Mother, and what just happened was the most powerful prophecy Devdas had witnessed from her. He had been quaking in his torn shoes when She gave her warning and felt his heart soar with Her promise. "My sister has never done that before."_

  


_Nath did not appear to be convinced, studying Devdas intently now, gauging his expression, age, social standings. Then, just as if the gods had a grudge against them, storm-grey eyes slowly unveiled themselves as Irnai came back to herself. He tried to take hold of the situation before Nath could. "Irnai!" he said, cradling her head in his lap, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead. "Look a'me, little _sis_. You jus' fainted while servin' m'lords here, but I think you're alright." He used his voice, mind, and eyes to try and convey the situation. Irnai always seemed to know his mind, maybe she would catch on..._

  


_No such luck. She sat up, banging her hands against the carpet in the frustrated expression of one much younger than she. "Again?!" she cried. "What'd I say this time that'll make the grown-ups mad at me?"_

  


_Devdas, caught totally off guard by her lies, only stared at Irnai dumbstruck, giving Nath his chance to pounce. The non-lord had assessed the situation, calculated Irnai's usefulness, recognized the weakness, and now he was ready to take advantage. Nath kneeled down next to her, his expression so much the picture of fatherly concern that it left Devdas dazed. One would never believe that he had just given away the lives of countless children to bring a man under his own will. "First, are you in any pain, dear child? I can send for a Healer," he offered._

  


_"N-no, m'lord. No use in goin' through the trouble wit' a little, useless 'un like me." Her tone was self-deprecating, her expression fearfully respectful, her posture vulnerable, but clear eyes emanated the purposeful calm before a storm. It was the last that kept Devdas from interfering. "I'm just a nuisance anyway."_

  


_Devdas, usually apt at reading people, only saw a pleased glimmer in Nath's eyes as he was given another opening; he could have only imagined it. "That's only the faint speaking, my dear. Lord Blayce, will you please send?"_

  


_"Please, m'lord, no! This happens all the time. Won't take me long to recover. And about being a nuisance," she looked down, ashamed. "It's true. The grown-ups whisper 'bout the things I say, callin' them 'evil workin's' even when what I say come true."_

  


_"You're proph–" Nath caught himself, remembering that he was only speaking to a child and that he had to play it accordingly. "The things you say, they actually come true?"_

  


_"It's uncanny, m'lord sir!" Devdas interjected, deciding to play along with Irnai's little ruse. _Whatever she's doing, _he thought in his stubborn way, _she's not gonna do it without me._ "And the village folk, they don't e'en thank her or nothin', they jus' leave us out on the streets, t'beg and fend fer ourself." He sent a silent apology to Mag and the other elders of the village who had treated them with kindness and generosity._

  


_Nath looked positively scandalized. "A grave wrong has been done against you, child," he told Irnai. "You have a gift, and you should be appreciated for your talents."_

  


_Rivaling even the players Devdas had once seen during Festival, Irnai put on a look of despair that would wrench any with a heart. _But only if they had one,_ Devdas amended silently, thinking of detached eyes and cold expressions. "But no one in the village likes me," she mourned, tears rising in her eyes. Devdas wondered what sadness these real tears spouted from; Irnai had once confided that she could never play-cry like many other children in the village. "Why add more sorrow to this world?" she had asked, eyes cloudy with weariness._

  


_"I have an idea," Nath said, somehow not surprising Devdas. "What is your name, child?"_

  


_"Irnai, m'lord," she answered without hesitation, her expression hopeful now._

  


_"Stand, then, Irnai," Nath commanded, rising from his position on the floor with his words. _

  


_She immediately obeyed, more than half on reflex, Devdas believed. For the first time, he felt fear's sharp bite of this game they were playing._

  


_"Would you like to use your talent for the good of Scanra, the success of your land?" he demanded, suddenly filling the room with his presence. _So much that Irnai probably doesn't even see me,_ Devdas imagined._

  


_But he saw the cloud of disgust that passed through her eyes and scolded himself for ever questioning her. She knew what this man meant by the 'success of your land.' "Yes, I vow it, for the _good_ of Scanra," Irnai accepted, taking the vow more seriously than Nath would ever know. _

  


_Fear's teeth sunk deeper into his heart as Devdas saw the uncertainty flicker through Nath's eyes as he no doubt caught a flash of the true Irnai. But then it passed, and he knew that Nath had discounted her as nothing more that a child. "Than I vow that you will be justly rewarded for your actions if you come with me to the capital, in service to me and King Maggur."_

  


Oh no.__

  


_"Mother witness it, for I agree," Irnai concluded, a triumphant gleam of lightning striking through her clear grey._

  


_With Irnai's practiced invocation to the Mother, he once again saw the doubt's light touch across Nath's controlled features. He had to do something, about distracting him and Irnai's leaving. "But if she goes, so do I!" Devdas declared, trying to say it with conviction and not fear. _

  


_Nath turned all his attention to him, measuring him differently this time. "And who are you?"_

  


_Irnai stared at Devdas for a long time, also scrutinizing, but with eyes that saw more than he could ever know. Finally, she nodded. "He is my brother, my lord, the only family I have ever known.." She seemed to have given up all pretense of a village accent, though not the farce. "I cannot leave him here."_

  


_Nath looked back and forth between them; Devdas met his eyes with a boldness he had not known he possessed. Finally, he smiled, once again a cat playing with his prey. "Fine, I would never dream of separating families. You, boy, will come, too. There might be some use for you yet." Devdas felt doubt at his pleased expression; he was probably congratulating himself on a job well done: a mage-lord and a prophet in one day. What had they gotten themselves into?_

  


_Devdas felt Irnai inch next to him, her small hand press against his in a gesture of reassurance, but, through it, he felt her steel-hard, storm bearing resolve also._

  


_Maybe the real question was, What had Nath gotten himself into?_

  


*~*~*~*~*~*

  


Kel woke up with a start, the whole dream swirling in her mind, waiting to be sorted out. But one thought remained clear.

  


Blayce would be there; she would have her chance.

  


_*~*~*~*~*~*_

  
  
  


A/N: I can never resist a good prophecy. Both that and the dream were fun to write. I hope you like my original characters, Nath and Devdas, they'll both be playing good-sized roles in the story.

  


I'm really sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to update for awhile. Dreaded exams coming up and I'm carrying a full load. I'll try to get one more update in this month. Sorry...

  


Is anyone interested in being a beta? Not really for grammatical or spelling errors, but for plot holes, in-character-ness,, kind of like a consultant. I'll try not to ruin any parts of the story for them. 

  


As always, thank you bunches to everyone who reviewed. Everyone is so supportive, so I will try to reply:

  


Briar's Gurl: My first reviewer! Thank you for your comments. Not saying that this will K/N, but I have no qualms about how long they've been friends. I know people who have done that, and their relationship worked fine, still is.

  


Ispreno: I've already said this, but thank you for the MS Word tip, I'm computer illiterate and for your wonderful comments.

  


Wake-Robin: I'm glad you thought the bracelet was cute, I was afraid it would be a little corny. Thank you for the comments! I'll try to update soon.

  


Miss Claire: I'll try to be quick, thanks for the enthusiasm!

SeaDragon: I wish I could answer everyone's questions about the shipping, but it would ruin it! Thank you for the review, though. Sorry I can't answer your question.

  


Magickal waterfall: You know I can't answer that : ). Thanks for dropping the review!

  


Caitlin: Thank you very much!

  


Kelly Masbolle: I'm sure your writing is just as good! Thanks for the comment!

  


fireangel: Here's your update. Thanks a bunch for reviewing.

  


Rezi: Thank you!

  


Lady Emmi: Though it was a bit hard for me, thank you for your opinion. I can tell you took the time to think about what could make my story better. I hope this answers your question about Neal's odd knowledge. I will try to cut down on extraneous stuff, but a lot of it isn't and I'd like to build a good, solid plot. Comparing me to the Search for the Six (great story), I don't think I quite deserve that compliment. 

Thank you again!

  


The Dreaded Rainbow Man: I love your name, by the way. Thank you for the compliments! I do put thought into my writing style and TP's characters, and comments like yours remind me why. Jon is one of my favorite characters; I'm glad that I captured him so well in your eyes. Thank

you!

  
  


Thanks to everyone who read, too, feel free to drop a review.

meghna

  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. The Beginning

Disclaimer: Not mine. 

A/N 3/13/2004: *ducks at the tomatoes thrown* I know, I deserve it. I spoke of a two week wait and turned it into a couple of months. I'm terribly sorry. And thank you to Lady Emmi, for reading this over. I'm sorry, I tried to contact you but couldn't wait any longer.

The Protectors

by meghna

Chapter Five: The Beginning

*~*~*~*~*

_Clunk! _

_"__Snrrr..."_

  
Kel watched sympathetically as Neal fell asleep over his morning meal for the second time in the mercilessly young morning. Reaching over her fruit juice, she tapped him on the shoulder gently.

He only mumbled incoherently—something about "insufferable, know-it-all beings"—and turned his head on the wooden mess hall table, wide-tipped nose coming perilously close to his own spiced grape juice.

  
Kel briefly contemplated the pitcher to her right, filled with clear, ice-cold water, a perfect, shockingly refreshing way to begin a morning. Or at least a good laugh to begin the day for everyone else. She, however, decided against favoring her friend with a wake-up douse. _It wouldn't be very nice, and I'd have to hear him complain about it for _ages.

Instead, Kel tapped Neal's stubbly chin to close his mouth and pinched his nose shut. She saw a flash of emerald and tanned arms flail before she let go and let a bleary eyed Neal splutter himself awake.

"Good morning, sunshine," she greeted cheerfully. Then, gesturing to his plate of fruit pastry and cheese, "You're supposed to eat that, you know, not drool all over it."

  
Neal glared at her in a manner reminiscent of Peachblossom on his grumpiest days. She chuckled behind her hand, wondering whether gelding or knight would be more offended by the comparison. Finally, he just threw up his hands in disgust and remarked, "I see that it's the return of the pain-in-the-bum, vexatiously upbeat morning greetings."

  
"I've missed you these four years, too, Sir Meathead," she replied, using his much beloved nickname. "Now, please hurry or we'll be late meeting your father."

  
At this, Neal gobbled down the last of his cheese and took the pastry in a napkin. Kel rose to turn in their plates and cups to the mess while Neal waited for her at the hall entrance, munching neatly on the remainder of his meal.

  
Rejoining him, she saw the dark shadows of unrest that clung in half moons under his fogged eyes, signs of more than a late night. "Didn't make much of the few bells of sleep last night?" she inquired as they headed for the East Wing, where the healer's infirmary could be found.

  
Neal shook his head regretfully, offering succinct explanation. "Dreams."

  
Kel patted his arm sympathetically, able to relate. She had lay awake through two bell tolls, sorting through her own dream, trying to make sense of the prophecy but only determining that she was the knight who would come "bearing Duty and Law"—whatever that meant—to destroy the Pervert, obviously Blayce, and "free those bound." Despite her aversion to foresight and destiny, Kel wished that Irnai's prophecy had explained how she would achieve her goal and who this other protector was. All the thought had amounted to very few answers, a multitude of questions, and a very restless night. "Me too," she confided. "I even slept through glaive practice this morning."

"And yet you're cheerfully wishing people a good morning, instead of cursing the world like any sane person in your situation," Neal grumbled. "Either life is unfair or you're not human."

  
"Life is rarely fair," she replied, although he did have a point. Kel was still riding on the thrill of having a means to get to Blayce and fulfill the Chamber's task. She wondered briefly if she should tell Neal about her encounters with the Chamber of Ordeal, thinking of a healer who could mend and end life, but found that she had no inclination to face the odd looks and unanswerable questions should he not be the other guardian.

The conversation ended there as they arrived at the infirmary's large green doors, always open to those in need. Kel followed as Neal sauntered into the receiving room comfortably. Having spent a good portion of his childhood tagging after his father here, he was no longer bothered by the permanent, pungent herbal smell of any healing place, unlike Kel, whose delicate nose felt assailed.

The receiving room, bedecked with artfully placed plants and peaceful landscape paintings, had large cushioned chairs and a healer's desk to welcome visitors. Instead of a healer's greens to greet them, however, a slender, older lady dressed in a cerulean morning gown sat, quill brushing against high cheekbones as she bent over an infirmary report to the Crown, long-fingered, unadorned hands writing in a clerk's neat, purposeful script. Her warm blue eyes squinted over her next line, arched brows raising as she ran a hand to sweep her greying chestnut locks away from her widow's peak, a gesture so reminiscent of her son that realization finally dawned upon Kel.

  
"Mother?" Apparently, Neal, too, was surprised to find the Duchess of Queenscove in the infirmary. 

  
Lady Sidonie barely glanced up from her work. "Oh, hello, dear. Give me a moment to finish this tedious little thing, and I'll be right with you. I need to speak with you about something. Tea?" She was referring to the now cool pot placed on the desk next to the ink bottle and behind a vase of flowers.

  
Neal and Kel sat down in the surprisingly comfortable plum chairs. "I thought you were meeting with Lady Cythara this morning to train the new Queen's ladies."

  
The Duchess finished her line then set the paper to dry before answering Neal. "With all the bad weather, Cythara took ill, the poor dear—Oh, hello, Kel. Neal, why didn't you tell me you brought her?"

  
Neal opened his mouth to reply, but Kel cut him off, preventing the verbal tilt before it occurred. "Hello, your Grace. How have things been going with you?"

  
Lady Sidonie smiled. "As fine as possible, dear. Congratulations on your knighting. You're a credit to us ladies."

  
  
"Thank you," Kel mumbled, keeping her blush down with some effort.

  
"How are Ilane and Piers these days?"

  
Kel looked up at the mention of her parents, taken aback. "Mama and Papa are doing well. They're actually leaving for the Yamani Islands again in a few days."

  
"On another diplomatic visit? Well, I bet Ilane loves it there. Please do tell them I sent my love." At the fondness in Sidonie's tone, Kel wondered how her and Neal's parents knew each other, what story they shared years ago. _Well, there's one way to find out._

"Actually, your Grace, I have a better idea. Papa's holding a farewell dinner in five days, and we'd be honored if you, Neal, and Duke Baird could join us."

  
"Oh, we wouldn't want to intrude upon a family gathering—"

"But your cook's meals are just too good to resist," Neal interjected the polite refusal with a grin. "We'll be there."

  
Kel smiled. "Mama will be thrilled."

  
"Neal..." His mother began, warning in her tone.

  
"Don't worry, Mother, she'll be happy to see you, too," he reassured her, making Kel chortle behind her hand. "Now, where's Father? He asked to meet me this morning."

  
"Yes, he wished to speak with you about your work for the King." Sidonie confirmed their hunch discreetly, straightening her desk as she spoke, not making an issue. She rose and took a seat near them for more privacy. "A squad from the Own came back early. They were caught unawares by bandits on a Northern patrol. Decimated, the few left raced back to Corus to deliver the message. My lord is tending the infected wounds of one right now."

  
Her words tugged at Kel's memory, pulling at a story like a book on a shelf that she just couldn't reach. Neal, on the other hand, was preoccupied with other matters. Green fire starting to shimmer about his fingertips, he shifted uncomfortably with the itch to heal. "Does Father need any help?"

  
"No, Neal," Sidonie said, smiling slightly at her son so much like his father, "the man will live. We are more worried about the message that he brings."

  
"This isn't the first time," Kel picked up, recalling what Raoul had told her a few days ago. "A group from the Riders were ambushed on a Northern sweep too. Does the Council suspect a connection?" she asked, knowing Baird kept Sidonie privy to the doings of the Council.

  
Neal snorted. "Two bandit attacks in the deep of winter? That's no coincidence. Especially with all the snow we've been getting, the weather must be horrid up north."

  
Ink-stained hands straightening her blue satin skirt primly, Sidonie shook her head. "Not exactly..."

  
Kel stiffened at the uneasiness in the older, composed lady's voice, as Neal placed a hand over his eyes, "Mother, please tell me they're buried chin deep up north and freezing their arses off."

  
Sidonie made no comment about her son's uncharacteristic foul language. "Well, it _is_ cold, but incredibly dry, until you hit about fifteen miles south of the Scanran border."

  
Kel, finally catching on to the mage and mother's trains of thought, pictured all the supply lines cut off, the crops ruined, the training sessions held inside, while the Border towns and villages were picked apart by bandits. Pay one group, watch their success, and others would soon follow. "Tampering," she whispered. "Scanra's enjoying a mild winter to prepare while we're hammered down by their fierce storms. Does the Council know?"

  
"They will tomorrow," the Duchess of Queenscove promised, and Kel was grateful that behind the influential Duke Baird stood an intelligent and competent woman.

  
Looking relieved, Neal asked his mother, "Is that what you wished to speak with me about?"

  
Sidonie's face blanked for a split-second, then cleared. "No, I wanted to tell you that Saradelmi's coming to visit."

  
The name was vaguely familiar to Kel; Neal had mentioned his close-as-a-sister cousin to her a few times before, but nothing that hinted at his reaction now. He stiffened in his chair, brows raising and eyes flashing like when he defended a mistreated servant. "_What?_ Why would she come to Court now?"

  
"She's accepted the betrothal, and your Aunt Mel is tired of seeing her haunt the halls moping. She'll arrive in about three weeks."

  
"Is it really wise—"

  
A door slammed from somewhere within the infirmary, then another screamed open to their sitting room, its hinges protesting at being thrown open, and Duke Baird of Queenscove, sleeves still rolled up and face harried, strode out heavily. Eyes that had seen countless crises and too many wars searched briefly and found his wife. He reached for her support, asked for her assistance. "Something's come up. I need to speak with the others." 

  
Sidonie nodded, kissing her son on the cheek before rising. She paused next to her husband on her way out, brushing the faded copper hair out of his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

  
The lines in Baird's face eased as his eyes softened upon her. "I'm fine. Thank you, Sid."

  
She smiled, young again, and then left, leaving Duke Baird with Neal and Kel waiting expectantly. "Hello, Neal, Kel. I'm sorry about having to cancel. I assume you're both accepting the mission?"

  
They both nodded in reply. 

"Good, I'll tell Jonathan right now. Ask Lord Wyldon if you have any questions, and again I'm terribly sorry, but I have to speak with Numair and the King."

"The weather-tampering?" Neal inquired. 

"Yes, how did you know?"

  
"We just worked that out," he answered dryly. "Do you need me to take care of anything, Father?"

  
Baird considered that for a moment before replying, "Yes, please. Could you look after the infirmary until my second, Kyel, comes? There's only two patients housed, and they shouldn't give you any trouble."

  
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," he assured his father, straightening proudly with responsibility. "Now, hurry, don't want to keep the Council waiting!"

  
"I'll speak with you later," the Duke promised. "Always a pleasure, Kel" And then he was out the door, in a flurry of green and a flash of red.

  
Kel rose from her seat, straightening her wooly burgundy tunic uncomfortably. "I should leave you to your work."

  
Neal's strong, calloused hand reached out to her arm, stopping her. This morning he had donned his normal white shirt, brown breeches attire and combed his brown hair, in need of a trim, back from a prominent widow's peak. "Stay for a minute, please?"

  
"Sure, what do you need?" she replied immediately, plopping back down on the giant embroidered cushions.

  
"I wanted to speak with you about Saradelmi," Neal started tentatively, which worried Kel. Neal was rarely shy. "When she comes, could you look after her, be her lady-friend in the new city?"

  
"You do know who you're talking to, don't you?" she asked, her tone like sandpaper as she traced a gryphon scar on her hand.

  
"I'm not asking you take her gown-shopping and introduce her to Court circles, that's the opposite of what she needs right now. Just be a friendly face in a new environment. Please?"

  
  
Unable to refuse those worried eyes or a friend in need, Kel threw her hands up, "Of course, but no guarantees she'll like me if she was raised from finishing school."

  
Neal grinned. "Oh Sara's definitely not your average lady. Or at least I hope she still isn't."

  
Seeing his expression cloud over darkly, Kel wondered if she would be intruding to ask her curiosity. _Well, if she's sensitive about something, I'm going to have to know to avoid it,_ she rationalized. "What happened to her?"

"A bad tragedy at a player's theater. She practically grew up on her fief's streets instead of in a castle, roaming and exploring with her best friend Claude, a rich merchant son. I remember in the summers she stayed with us, all her stories somehow involved him. Anyway, sometime during our fourth page year, she met a son of a lord named Bryan. They became closer and closer; I could tell because in her letters, there was suddenly a lot less talk about Claude and a lot more about Bryan. It progressed to the point that they became secretly betrothed, ignoring Aunt Mel's wishes to marry her elsewhere. She only told Claude. It gets unclear from there, because I never received the whole story from Sara, but it somehow culminated to a jealous Bryan challenging a heartbroken Claude to a duel, underestimating him. Claude won but was jailed to life in the mines for illegal dueling and a commoner's 'murder' of a noble, even though there are witnesses that confirm Bryan challenged him. I say good riddance, for they were both idiots, but Sara didn't take it so angrily. She was left without love or friendship, the poor lass."

Kel blinked, "Quite the story." Come three weeks, she would have a best friend's heartbroken cousin to look after. _I wonder if she's related to Dom, too,_ she mused, absent-mindedly. Despite Neal's assurances, this Saradelmi sounded like another courtier who tried to keep a foot in two boats and lost her balance, drowning both.

A duel to the death, probably fought over her handkerchief or a lock of her hair. _Honestly._

  
*~*~*~*~*

  
Kel strode purposefully for the North Wing of the Palace, having made her mind to go and speak with her former training master. She had just left the infirmary, where Neal had become busy with the demands of a patient, refusing to distract him from his work. Almost there, she passed Raoul's quarters, her old room, in the same cluster as all the other Commander suites, and felt a little nostalgic, missing the fast-paced life of the Own and her companions made there.

  
She came to the right hazelwood door and lifted the cool, hound's head brass knocker, letting it drop with a resounding thud twice before Owen answered, a grin pushing his no-longer-chubby cheeks up. He let her in without much fuss, although there was a unsettling tension for Kel when he asked her, only in curiosity, of her business with his knight-master. Kel had made up something about assignments for spring, as Wyldon would be the Army Commander, unable to meet her friend's innocent gray eyes, wondering how many lies to how many friends she would have to deal this winter.

  
Owen, of course, took her reason with unwavering trust, leading her to Lord Wyldon's study, a simply decorated retreat with lightwood shelves and the noble Cavall colors of blue and black. The only painting was a landscape of a stony eastern defense castle, probably fief Cavall itself, hung over the blazing fireplace. Lord Wyldon himself sat in a straight-backed chair at an organized desk, plotting the journey of an army to the northern border in days, adding figures on a scratch sheet before transferring a finalized number to his pristine supply sheets. Kel inwardly shook her head at the thorough neatness of her mentor, remembering her own supply records for the King's Own with its margins riddled with the scratching of complicated calculations. Raoul had called it messiness; she preferred paper saving.

  
"My lord, Sir Keladry of Mindelan has come to see you," Owen announced formally.

  
Lord Wyldon looked up, his level glance only skidding over her briefly, and greeted her perfunctorily. "Please sit, Keladry. Congratulations on your knighting."

  
_As if you had supported me all along, _Kel thought, though less with her old bitterness than with curiosity. She had long ago forgiven Lord Wyldon, for he had removed the probation, had he not? Plus, it had not been the training master's decision that put her on probation; no, that final decision belonged to the King.  


The aged, dignified knight turned to his squire. "Please deliver these papers to the Rider's Commander, and then pick up Ash from Daine; her hind legs should be healed now. Thank you."

  
Owen made a little bow. "As you wish, my lord."

  
Only after they heard the sound of second door closing did Wyldon finally address the lady knight sitting in his study. "He eavesdrops, the hellion," he explained uncharacteristically. "Now, what do wish to speak with me about?"

  
Kel hesitated and shifted in her stiff chair, unsure to be sitting instead of standing, shy to voice all her questions. "We've accepted the mission," she stated instead, hoping to give him an opening.

  
She should have known that he would never commence a conversation. "Is that all that you wished to tell me, be—"

  
Kel then did something she had never dared since her first day as a page. "Why us, my lord?" she interrupted. "Why suggest your two least favorite trainees?"

  
Wyldon sighed, sitting as far back as his stern chair would allow, and Kel wondered if he would launch into a history of her credentials as King Jonathan had. Thankfully, he refrained. "Keladry, I'm not here to bolster your self-esteem. I believed you were the most qualified for the job; it was an impersonal decision. Even if it wasn't, I don't have any particular grudge against you."

  
"And Neal?" she inquired, crooking her brow.

  
"Yes, well, he was an unfortunate addition. Not my idea at all, and I will maintain that if anyone questions me," Wyldon replied, and Kel almost fell out of her chair in surprise. Did the Stump just jest? With her?

  
She remained dazed as Wyldon handed her a training schedule and dismissed her. Just as she was about to close the door behind her, she heard his voice, just a hint of humor in it.

  
"And more thing, Keladry. Please relay to Nealan that if he teaches any more of my charges to call me by nicknames, I will personally challenge him to a joust and unsaddle him to etiquette school."

  
*~*~*~*~*

  
_To Nealan of Queenscove and Keladry of Mindelan:_

_Read this schedule, memorize it, then burn it. This will only pertain to the first two days, afterwards times and dates might change based on your teachers' availability. Training begins tomorrow_.

_Weapons work at dawn, instructed by myself, Sir Alanna, or Lord Raoul, in the second indoor practice court._

*~*~*~*~*

"We've been training in weapons for eight years now, even more informally. What more do we need to know?" an ill-tempered, sleep-fogged Neal asked as they entered the dimly lit indoor practice court. The old salle had become dusty with misuse after a new one had been built a quarter century ago and smelled of stale sweat and rotting leather.

  
They found Lord Wyldon and the Lioness waiting for them, sitting on the remains of an old bench. Immediately, Kel and Neal were sent on a warm-up of eight laps around the room. When they were finished and had started to stretch, Wyldon spoke to them.

  
"If the situation deteriorates in Scanra, you may find yourselves having to fight your way out, hopeless outnumbered and out-weaponed. In order to survive against a group of soldiers, you two must learn to work together, completely as one unit. You will first fight each other until you memorize each other's fighting styles, the other's favorite moves and counters. Then you will adapt to work together, and we will teach you to synchronize. 

  
"Now, we will begin with a quick exercise to see how much you must learn. Get on your padding. Hurry, we haven't all day. Good, now Nealan, here's your practice sword. Now, begin."

  
Kel got into the ready position for hand-to-hand combat, not knowing what else to do, but Neal just stood, wooden sword hanging dumbly from left hand, looking perplexed. 

  
"Queenscove," Alanna barked, "what don't you understand about begin?"

  
"You seem to have forgotten to provide Kel with a weapon," Neal pointed out, and Kel silently sighed, wondering how he always managed to provoke elders. "I can't attack her defenseless."

  
"_You _seem to have forgotten that she will be posing as a defenseless court lady, with no weapons on her own. This is her most likely fighting situation, and, with any luck, she'll be able to disarm you. Now, begin!"

  
"But..."

  
Kel sighed; this was going to be a long morning.

  


*~*~*~*~*

_You will be provided a short break for a morning meal. _("What? Weapon's work _before_ breakfast?")_ After a mark, you will report to the Baron Cooper's study for further lessons._

*~*~*~*~*

  
"What do you think he'll be teaching us?" Kel asked Neal as he hurriedly led the way from the mess hall. 

"Probably the stealthy aspects of what we'll have to do. This _is_ espionage."

  
The door to King's Champion's quarters was left open, and Neal strode in confidently, having spent a good amount of the last four years housed here, past the sumptuous sitting room and into the large study, riddled with the maps and code books of the Royal Spymaster's second in command.

  
"Now, in all likelihood and luck, you'll never need what you learn with us, but we always like to be prepared." George Cooper skipped the idle chat and dove right in as soon as they sat. "We only have so much time, but I'd like to teach you some of the more prominent tricks of the trade. Moving silently, using hand signals and code words, thinking like someone you're not, going by unnoticed, controlling your expressions. Now, I won't do this alone. Tara, over here, will help," he gestured to a chair behind his right shoulder, previously empty, Kel could have sworn, but now occupied by a young, brown-haired, unremarkable woman. Nondescript was the only way to describe her mousy brown hair, pulled back; brown eyes, dull and downcast; average build, neither dumpy nor willowy; maid's garbs, indistinct in their color.

  
"No, she wasn't there before," the former Rogue answered Neal's incredulous stare with a devilish grin. "I provided the distraction, and she slipped in. Hopefully, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to achieve something like that. Tara will be your maidservant in Scanra, the only Tortallan the Tusainians allowed in your little group. She's been to Hamrkeng twice disguised as a servant and has brought back valuable layouts and information. She has her own purposes in Hamrkeng, that have nothing to do with heroics, and is no way under your authority. Ask her for advice, if you need it, but otherwise she'll just dress you and look after your rooms.

  
"Now, any questions?"

  
Kel and Neal shook their heads.

"Well then, let's begin with how to resist a truth spell..."

*~*~*~*~*

_Your last lesson of the day would be magic lessons with Numair—use of it for Nealan and how to deal with it for Keladry—but he is in Port Legann performing a task for the Crown. Lessons will commence as soon as he returns._

_You will begin the next day with culture lessons with Sir Myles, promptly after an early breakfast._

*~*~*~*~*

She and Neal sat in their old history classroom, dwarfing desks meant for pages before their growth spurts. Finally, the shaggy knight entered, carrying a tome on Bazhirian dialect and a stack of unorganized parchments. 

"Sorry, I'm late, fledglings," Sir Myles apologized, setting his stack on his desk along with a cup of strong tea. "I'm not used to this early a morning. Could you close those shutters for me, Kel? Thank you, the light gives me an awful headache.

"Now, I'd like you to know that I was against this mission. It's too risky and could end up wasting two of our future's finest knights. But Tortall is in need, so I will help prepare you as much as possible so you don't go to Scanra and get your little heads chopped off. Let's start with a preliminary test, just to see where we are. I assume you two learned Scanran language and Tusainian history, correct?"

  
"You taught it to us yourself, sir," Neal answered.

  
"Yes, well, we'll see how good of a teacher I was." Sir Myles handed them each two sheets of parchment, full of questions about what Kel thought was Tusainian wars and kings. She wasn't sure though... "Here's a review. Complete as much as you can without any help. Circle the ones you don't know and look them up for tomorrow. Go ahead and begin."

  
Myles turned his back to them, arranging himself to sit at his desk, so he did not notice Neal's hand up in the air.

  
"Yes, Sir Queenscove?"

  
"But, sir, it's in _Scanran_."

  
"I see that we have a lot of work to accomplish."

  
*~*~*~*~*

_Next you will take a break to dress properly and then report to Master Oakbridge for lessons in Ambassador etiquette, Tusainian manners, and Scanran etiquette. In the library, ask one of the attendants for texts entitled _Tusainian Faux Pas_ and _Modern Scanran Protocol_._

*~*~*~*~*

"For the last time, Sir Nealan! In Scanra, to bow at the waist to the monarch would be the gravest of insults. One must kneel, like so. Did you read your manual at all?"

  
"Who knew there would be so much to learn about manners in a country where bathing is a weekly routine?"

  
Kel knew that Neal was just pulling his chain and quite effectively, too. She had never seen Master Oakbridge turn that bright a shade of purple.

*~*~*~*~*

_For tea, Keladry will join Princess Shinkokami and Princess Kalasin, for the finer points of finishing school. Nealan's presence is not required here, and he has no such equivalent classes, having been taught his station._

*~*~*~*~*

Next to Shinko, Kel sat in the Royal Chambers on sapphire blue velvet cushions, lined with silver borders, and felt very out of place with a princess pouring tea for her.

She studied Kalasin of Conté's raven's wing, wavy hair and proud-boned face, belonging to the would-be second lady knight in the realm had her father not intervened. "Excuse me, Shinko, your Highness, but I know how to wear a dress and curtsey. Embroidery isn't a known art in Scanra so I needn't learn that, and I will have maids to dress my hair and tell me the difference between a dinner and ball gown. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but what is there left to learn about being a lady?" Kel asked.

Princess Kalasin smiled kindly, and if Kel hadn't been so nervous, she would have noticed Shinko take out her fan, covering her face to hide her mirth. "_Please_ call me Kally, and never your Highness. That sounds so stiff. And, to answer your question, first we'll take you shopping for a wardrobe befitting your supposed station, get your ears pierced—hopefully you won't faint like Mother says Alanna did—and have you grow your hair out. Sorry, I know it's dreadfully bothersome, but no Court lady cuts her hair above shoulder length. Then me and Shinko have been charged with teaching you how to weave, speak, dance, and walk like a Court lady."

  
"What's wrong with the way I walk? I can walk with a book on my head without it dropping."

  
Kally rose to retrieve something, and Shinko patted her knee. "That was first year work in school back in the Islands," she explained as Kally came back carrying a small chessboard, pieces laid out as if a game was about to start. "By the time we were ready to be married, we had to be able to balance that without a piece moving from its square."

  
Kel gulped.

*~*~*~*~*

_That will be the end of your lessons. Do not speak with anyone about them, make up excuses. Work hard, for what you learn can be life instead of death of yourselves and the people of Tortall. Relax today, for it all begins tomorrow._

*~*~*~*~*

Kel traipsed back to her room after the second day, whispering her name, and throwing open her door without a thought but a hot bath before bed. She was so preoccupied with all that had happened in the short span of three days that she barely noticed the letter from Cleon sitting on her desk.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Good, bad, ugly? Review and tell me!


End file.
